


Tethers

by red_to_black



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Diaz deserves better, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 242,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_to_black/pseuds/red_to_black
Summary: Eddie's spent years trying to find a place to call home with Christopher, hoping that Shannon will come back and then desperately hoping she wouldn't. He thinks he's in the clear when she shows up at his doorstep, demanding they get back together.Eddie comes up with a foolproof plan: get a fake boyfriend, convince Shannon he's gay, and live happily ever after with his life mostly intact and Christopher safe and happy. Get rid of fake boyfriend when Shannon gives up, and life can resume as normal.Enter Buck, and the plan goes to hell in a handbasket.
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Eddie Diaz & Shannon Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Past Eddie Diaz/Shannon Diaz
Comments: 1029
Kudos: 2877
Collections: Brilliant Recs - Reread at any time, Buddie AU fanfics





	1. Threads

**Author's Note:**

> so i was watching a video about people being able to hire fake girlfriends in Japan to show them around for the day or to like not disappoint their family or whatever and then this little plot bunny took over my life
> 
> i am notoriously bad at updating on any schedule but i will TRY to update this at least once a fortnight

It's funny, how you can end up with someone and be close enough to have a child together - an entire life together - and then drift away to the point of bitterness.

Maybe you didn't mean to in the end. Maybe you thought you were holding tight to the rope that kept your life rafts together and the other person wasn't holding theirs - they were drifting and you didn't know, because you couldn't see the bottom of their boat. Maybe you held just tight enough to maintain the illusion, but you got tired, and inch by inch you let that rope slip away until you were both adrift.

And the thing is, being adrift is lonely. Being adrift is running from place to place, always looking for home, always looking for a way out or some new opportunity on the horizon that will make things better. You're adrift, sometimes through no fault of your own, sometimes entirely by your own fault, and the first thing you want to do when you're adrift is find something or someone to hold on to.

Eddie knows about being adrift. About loss. He's spent eight years like this, losing sleep and sanity trying to work out what's best for his son that he can actually maintain.

Somewhere along the line, he realised he would have to stop running. That he would have to tether himself to something, because his little boat isn't just him anymore. His little boat has Christopher and he's bailing out water with a teacup, and they're sinking.

He didn't expect to find his tether in L.A.

~*~

The thing is, when Shannon left him with Christopher four years ago, Eddie thought she'd come back. Hoped she'd come back, even.

After a year, he realised she wouldn't, and he picked up and began to move. Around Texas, around Mexico, living with his mother and father and then one of his older sisters. Finally, he ended up in L.A, living alone but at least near abuela and Pépa, where there's sun almost all year round and enough diversity that Chris might not get picked on in school anymore.

At that point, he figured that Shannon wasn't coming back, and that if she did, he'd be less than interested in maintaining a relationship with her.

But then she does come back. She crashes into Eddie's life like a fucking Mack truck with a list of demands - demands Eddie feels will compromise Chris's living situation, Chris who begs him in tears one night to stay in L.A because he doesn't want to move anymore.

Eddie picks every fight he sees. That's why he was in the military, in Afghanistan. So he digs his heels in, and that's where the trouble starts, because Shannon doesn't just want Chris back - Eddie could deal with shared custody, she is his mother after all - but she wants all of it. The nuclear family, Chris, and Eddie as well.

Eddie's love for her has faded, now, to a distant memory. A relic only left behind because they share Chris, and he could never fully hate her after she's given him Chris. But right now, when she's popping up at his workplace and house and everywhere else - something has to change.

He tells her he's not interested, which doesn't work. He tells her he has a new girlfriend, which she outright scoffs at, which - okay, rude.

So Eddie is left with two options - move, and hope Shannon can't find them, which begs a legal battle over custody that he'll probably lose - or fake a relationship.

There's a slight hurdle to that. He doesn't know anyone in L.A. But this is L.A, so there has to be something, right?

This is how he ends up on his old laptop, at ten in the morning, Googling fake relationships. Craigslist seems dodgy and also seems to be where old men post about wanting to buy dirty underwear from college students, so he gives that a huge miss.

The second thing he stumbles across is a clean, legit-looking website offering fake girlfriend and boyfriend services, ranging from a full-blown contractual fake relationship lasting for months (or _as long as you need it to!_ The cheerful writing advertises, _custom plans tailored to YOUR NEEDS available!_ ) or a single date, to get your family off your back.

Eddie clicks on it. There are dozens of faces, men and women, all ages and ethnicities and walks of life. He feels like he found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow until he remembers the gold will cost money.

If Eddie's going to do this, he decides, it has to be good.

It has to be really good.

A woman, he decides, isn't going to cut it. A woman is still a woman like Shannon, and Shannon will stop at nothing to get another woman out of the way. She already didn't believe that he had a new girlfriend.

But - if Eddie has a fake boyfriend - well, he can just say he's gay and then Shannon will leave him alone, right? Because if he's gay there's no reason to keep chasing him, nothing she has to gain. So Eddie will have to suck it up and get a fake boyfriend.

This decision to buckle down leads him to scroll through the website for the next ten minutes, deeming everyone too old or too young or too just weird-looking - all of them look so serious, and really, if Eddie's going to have a fake boyfriend he's at least going to have a good time with said fake boyfriend - until he finds Buck.

Buck is twenty-six (a little on the young side for Eddie, maybe, but workable), tall, with big blue eyes, full lips drawn back into a cheerful, maybe slightly dopey grin, and a crop of short blonde hair. He's good looking, even Eddie can recognise that. He looks like the sort of person that might have been born a golden retriever in another life, and also maybe like he enjoys cotton candy and Ferris wheels.

And he obviously has his settings flicked over to men, which is a bonus. Hell, maybe Buck isn't even gay. Maybe he's just doing it for money. He doesn't look gay. Is that homophobic of Eddie to think? It's all fucking complicated.

He hesitates for a moment, inexplicably nervous. Then he reminds himself that he's setting up a business arrangement, not a date, and messages Buck.

**gidiaz87** : so how do I go about arranging you as my fake boyfriend?

A little text bubble appears almost immediately. Buck must be on his phone.

**itsbuckarootoyou** : messaging is the first step!! I'm buck :) what do you have in mind?

Eddie flounders. Buck's nice. Maybe overenthusiastic about being someone's fake boyfriend, but nice.

**gidiaz87** : Can we talk in person? It's complicated

**itsbuckarootoyou** : complicated already? we haven't been on our first date :O

Damn him, Eddie almost smiles.

**itsbuckarootoyou** : I have some time this afternoon though - wanna meet at Starbucks?

This afternoon is soon, but Chris is with abuela and Eddie has time, so it works. He messages back quickly, wanting to solidify plans before Buck gets another offer.

**gidiaz87** : I can be there at 2. Which Starbucks?

Buck sends a location to him, and Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans. This is nerve wracking. It's pathetic. It's all sorts of fucked up that he has to hire a fake boyfriend to get rid of his very much real ex-wife. Abuela will not be happy when she finds out.

~*~

It's not easy to miss Buck in a crowd.

Partially because he's so damn tall it's stupid and unfair (and seriously, what kind of man has legs that long?), and partially because he almost crashes through the Starbucks in his haste to get to Eddie's table.

"Sorry I'm late," he rushes out, yanking a brightly coloured and somewhat hideous scarf off his neck. "I was at my sister's for lunch and she has lots of boyfriend problems and I was trying to help but - hey, you are G.I Diaz 87 aren't you?"

"That's me," Eddie says faintly, wondering what kind of mayhem he's just invited into his life.

"I'm Buck," Buck says cheerfully, as if Eddie had somehow not matched his face to his profile photo. The grin is the same, and in real life, he's got that same goofy energy he gave off in his photo.

"Eddie," Eddie says, and shakes Buck's hand.

"So." Buck sits down, taking a sip of his frappe whatever it is when the waitress brings it over. "You need a fake boyfriend, and it's complicated. Why's that?"

"Does it matter?" Eddie asks, who still hasn't caught up with the weirdness of the whole situation.

"Yes." Buck arches his eyebrows. "Maybe I don't want to get involved with your drama, Diaz."

"Okay, okay," Eddie sighs. "My ex-wife is trying to weasel her way back into my life. I'm trying to get her to lay off, but nothing is working. I thought if I could convince her I'm gay, that would be the final nail in the coffin."

"Oh, so do you want me to be like, possessive? Crazy? Jealous? Crazy possessive? I can do a combination but you gotta make it worth my while. Ex-wives are always insane, in my experience. One time I fake-dated this woman who was a lesbian who had an ex wife, and she was pretending to go straight because she figured that would annoy her ex more than her just moving on, and she said I was the whitest straightest dude she could find and - are you okay?"

Buck talks a lot. Which is good, because Eddie doesn't talk much. "Uh," he says. "Yeah, I just-"

"Sorry," Buck winces. "People say I talk a lot."

"That's okay," Eddie says faintly, and smiles hurriedly when he notices that Buck looks a little dejected. "I just want to know what the package comes with."

"Oh, okay. Well, it depends. Do you need me to just be seen with you a few times, or do you want the full experience? Instagram posts, Facebook, stuff like that?"

"The whole package," Eddie says quickly. Shannon won't believe just a few outings. "Facebook relationship status, going to family gigs - the whole thing."

"Wow, really?" Buck blinks. "I mean, that's cool, but you hardly know me yet. What if I suck?"

"Do you suck?" Eddie asks.

Buck scrunches his nose up. "No?" he asks uncertainly.

Anyone who sucked, Eddie reasons, would have a resounding, confident "no" to that question, so he feels a little at ease. "Okay," he says. "So how's it work?"

"You decide if you like me," Buck says, "and then you can select a package and put my identifying number down on the package. That'll take me off the site for as long as you continue the payments. You can just add stuff to the basic plan that you want, like weekly dates, Instagram photos, whatever - or you can go for the full package. It's up to you though man."

"And if I go for Facebook status and all the rest?" Eddie asks.

"Easy. We'd post pictures first, make it all believable, then change Facebook status."

"Facebook," Eddie says. "The be-all and end-all of dating in 2020."

Buck blinks, looking a little uncertain. "We... don't have to...?"

"It's cool," Eddie says quickly. "So... how many fake boyfriends do you have at the moment?"

"None," Buck says. "No fake girlfriends either."

Eddie isn't going to ask about Buck's sexuality. That might be neither here nor there for him. Maybe this is just a way to make money and have company. "Why's that?"

"I only have one at a time." Buck sips his ridiculous sugar concoction. "If I had more than one at once, people would connect the dots." Eddie's looking closer, and in the light, he can see a mark over Buck's left eye - an old injury, maybe?

"So," Buck says. "Why G.I Diaz?"

Eddie groans; he knew that would come back to bite him. "I went to Afghanistan."

Buck's eyes are wide. "No way."

"Yeah. Two tours. Back here now, though. Just trying to make ends meet until I can settle into something else." Buck's nodding along seriously - Eddie can't imagine him having responsibilities other than rent, maybe. He won't mention Christopher yet. It might not even get that far.

"Lots of jobs going around town," Buck says. "Unless you're trying to be an actor."

"I'm not," Eddie says quickly. He can't think of anything worse than having a camera shoved in his face all the time. "What do you do?" Buck's definitely in shape - he's broad and solid, defined shoulders, and he has to be doing something physical with how much damn energy he has. Eddie's hoping for something that's not entirely vapid and self-obsessed, but this is L.A.

Buck puffs his chest out proudly. "I'm a firefighter," he says. "With the L.A.F.D."

Which... somehow isn't what Eddie was expecting. It's L.A, and Buck looks like that, and he could be a model or an actor. But he's a firefighter, which is unexpected and kind of nice.

"Sounds like a good gig," he says. "Why this, then?"

Buck looks startled for a moment. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he's friendly enough that Eddie's already concerned about it getting stabbed. "Extra money," he shrugs eventually. "Free food at family gigs. I can't just hang out and wait for someone to decide I'm their perfect new boyfriend, so it can't really be a full-time thing."

It's still not quite making sense to Eddie, but hell, he'd be even worse off right now if it weren't for Buck and his odd train of thought.

"Well," Eddie says, and smiles. It's a weird situation to be in, but Buck is friendly and remarkably good at mitigating Eddie's awkwardness over this whole situation, and he seems decent enough. He's a good fit, especially given that Eddie has Christopher to think about. "Worked out for me okay."

Buck relaxes a little. It strikes Eddie then how finely tuned Buck is to his body language, to everything he's saying - maybe that's part of being a first responder, always reading people and having to analyse.

"Most importantly," Buck says, "what do you do for fun?"

~*~

The easiest thing for Eddie to do is measure their differences.

Buck is about six-foot-two, with long legs, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and sandy blonde hair. He's got a mark over his left eye that may be an old injury. He's twenty six, and works as a firefighter. He has a loft apartment in the downtown area.

Eddie is maybe six foot, doesn't have long legs, and is brown basically all over - olive skin, brown hair, brown eyes. He's got perma-stubble and he's thirty-three in two months. He works as a diesel mechanic at the moment, and lives in a little house on the outskirts of L.A that he can afford while still paying for Chris's appointments.

Buck doesn't have a kid. Eddie has Christopher.

He's sitting in his living room, a beer cracked open and sweating directly onto the coffee table. Christopher is in bed, and Eddie's eyes are dry and itching from exhaustion, but he's staring at the hire website and making his mind up.

The full package includes a lot of stuff Eddie doesn't necessarily need, like a whole fake installation of Facebook posts from "friends" about their relationship. The mid-tier package has exactly what he wants, really, so he selects that.

It's money. But he's got a job now and if he cuts back on his gym membership, he can still do it. It shouldn't take that long for Shannon to leave him alone.

He still can't believe it's come to this. But he doesn't see another way to get her to leave him alone. She already has once-a-month custody visits with Christopher, and she's using them to weasel her way back into Eddie's life after being AWOL for years... but nobody would believe him if he told them.

He buys the package and puts a payment down. When he refreshes the page, Buck's smiling face is whited-over, visible but muted, with a stamp saying "UNAVAILABLE" across it.

He breathes out. Buck will tell him what to do from here, he guesses. He gets emailed a contract to sign, which he does read but doesn't apply because he's not going to do anything as batshit insane as abusing Buck or trying to force sexual favours out of him.

Not that he'd admit it, but Buck could give him a run for his money. It took one look for Eddie to ascertain that while Buck is friendly and probably doesn't like fighting, he would and could if he had to.

His phone pings. It's from the website, their messaging service.

**itsbuckarootoyou** : that was fast! Didn't want to try anyone else?

Buck must've been notified that his package had been bought. Eddie feels almost uneasy. It's a little fucked up to be buying a boyfriend off the internet when you're not gay or even bi.

**gidiaz87** : you're no leggy blonde but you'll do in a pinch

**itsbuckarootoyou** : last time I checked I was blonde

And leggy, Eddie has to admit to himself. He's honestly never seen a guy with legs that long. So maybe he did end up with a leggy blonde. God, Buck's even perky. What the hell is wrong with him?

**itsbuckarootoyou** : here's my number! Easier than using the app

Eddie plugs it into his phone, sends Buck a text message before he can chicken out of the whole thing, and then downs the rest of his beer in one gulp.

He doesn't know when his life got so fucking weird, but he's got a fake boyfriend and a fake date for Tuesday, and now he has to organise childcare.

~*~

"Do you think ants have like, any concept of a tsunami?"

This is just one of the strange things that Buck has said in the last half hour. He has to think before answering. "No?"

"Oh. Good. I drowned a bunch of them today and I feel really guilty about it."

Really, this isn't the worst fake date he's ever been on. Well, it's the only fake date he's been on to be honest, but it's ranking up there with some of his best real dates. Buck is bouncing around like nobody's told him he isn't actually part golden retriever, and he bought them both food, so Eddie's happy.

They're walking through the park, at Buck's suggestion, just getting to know each other better. Buck's touchy, but it's hard to tell if it's because he's supposed to be Eddie's boyfriend or if he's naturally tactile, and this is just an extension of it. He's in Eddie's space, bumping shoulders with him, hands occasionally brushing - it's kind of nice, really.

Eddie - who is not normally so careless with his affection - is touch-starved and lonely, so he doesn't shrug it off.

"This way," Buck says, grabbing Eddie's hand to lead them towards a cafe, nestled neatly between two huge office buildings. "This place is great. We can take a few pictures here, get something to eat, talk strategy."

"Strategy?" Eddie asks, even as Buck ushers him into one of the outdoor seating tables.

"Strategy." Buck drops into the seat opposite him, leans forward. The light catches his eyes, which are shockingly blue. "So, how are we gonna play this? What's gonna get your ex to back off?"

"So far, nothing," Eddie says dryly.

"Be positive, Eds!" Buck smiles at the waiter, who's bringing them water and filling their glasses, and also looking like he's curious about their conversation. "Got any ideas?"

Eddie thinks, biting his lip. Buck reads the menu as he does.

"We need a story," Eddie says. "About how we met."

"Oh, I've got one." Buck lights up, begins talking animatedly with his hands. "I saved you from a burning wreck. Or a burning building! And you were so taken with me and so grateful that you had to buy me dinner-"

He stops at the flat expression on Eddie's face.

"Or maybe you fixed my car at the mechanic's?" Buck asks sheepishly.

"There we go." He has to laugh, though, at Buck's dramatics and wild imagination. "I have to be the one who pursued," he says thoughtfully. "Shannon won't believe it otherwise. She has to think I made the first move."

"Ohh." Buck grins. "You swept _me_ off _my_ feet, huh?"

"That so surprising?" Eddie asks smoothly.

For a second, Buck is actually speechless. His face tints pink, and Eddie sinks back in his chair, smugly revelling in his one small victory.

Buck rallies. "No," he says, "just surprising that I didn't sweep you off your feet first."

Are they competing over who fictionally seduced who first? It doesn't matter really, because the waiter brings their drinks right around then and takes their order. Almost everything here is GMO-free something on gluten-free whatever, which is so quintessentially L.A that Eddie can't even be mad about it - or the price.

"So," Buck says. "What kind of guy are you?"

"Uh." Eddie puts his fork down. "Meaning...?"

"Are you the jump in headfirst in love kinda guy? The romantic? Do you really take your time to warm up to people?"

"That last one sounds about right," Eddie says, only Buck thinks it's because he's shy when in reality most people just don't stick around for the baggage that is a thirty-two-year-old single father with a seven year old kid with special needs.

Buck nods along enthusiastically. Eddie is totally distracted by the single pieces of lettuce Buck is lifting to his mouth, not seeming to know he has a whole side salad or that he has a knife and fork. This man is eating lettuce leaves on their own, no dressing, no nothing, with his hands - maybe Eddie should've looked into this more.

"Please tell me you aren't vegan," Eddie says.

Buck blinks. "Huh?"

"Tell me you aren't vegan," Eddie begs. "I'm half Mexican, you won't last a night with the rest of the family if you're vegan."

Buck barks out a startled laugh. "No? What gave you that idea?"

"... Never mind," Eddie says. "So, what's the plan?"

"Okay, so we got our story down - we met when you fixed my car at the mechanic's, and you were so taken by how ravishingly handsome I am-"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how the story went-"

"That you kept finding reasons to call me, saying that you needed to fix different parts on my car, because you were too shy to ask me out right off the bat. I was gonna go with you asked me out to dinner right away but that doesn't sound like you, so we'll change it-"

"To me being _shy_ -?"

"To you just, you know, thinking of little reasons to keep calling me back to the garage. And finally you got the courage to see if I wanted to get coffee, and the rest is history!"

Eddie blinks. God, Buck is dramatic.

Buck scrunches his nose when Eddie doesn't reply right away. "What?" he asks. "Is it too basic? Not tragic enough? We can go with my story of rescuing you from a burning building. Maybe, oh, maybe I got injured and you kept coming to see me at the hospital!"

"No," Eddie says quickly, deciding to curtail Buck's wild imagination while he can get a word in edgewise. "No, the mechanic story works. I think it's good. Coffee sounds like me."

"Okay!" Buck eats another piece of lettuce, dios why he eats it like that Eddie will probably never know - "So now we have to start taking pictures!"

Eddie's stomach swoops and falls right into the ground. "Uh, what?"

"For Instagram! And Facebook I guess. We need pictures for both of our accounts."

"How come both?"

"Well, if you're in a situation that you're hiring a fake boyfriend to get your ex-wife off your back, I'm guessing that she's probably going to stop at nothing to figure out if this is real, which means I'm gonna get cyber-stalked just as much as you are."

"... Good point," Eddie sighs. "So where do we start?"


	2. Canvas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said this would be on a schedule and that the schedule would be once a fortnight and i know i haven't got back to comments on anything i've posted yet BUT i also told you guys i'm trash
> 
> so i'm posting the new chapter now and i'll get back to comments on my next day off! thank you for all the love on this story and my two one-shots so far, it's super encouraging and i'm glad you're enjoying it!

The comments start rolling in that night.

Eddie's thrown up a picture of him and Buck at the cafe. It's not even particularly a romantic picture, but Buck's hand tangled with Eddie's on the table is clearly visible and Buck looks genuinely happy to be there, and while it's subtle, it's clearly a couples' photo.

The comments range from sheer disbelief to doubtful "glad you're happy" ones, but mostly, they're all positive - everyone seems to be happy he's moved on, even if they had no idea he was gay in the first place.

It makes him feel guilty. For lying about it. Maybe there was a better way, but it's too late now.

Next is the conversation with Christopher. It goes better than he'd hoped, really - he says, "Christopher, you know how people sometimes split up, but then Mommy or Daddy gets a new partner?"

And Christopher says, "Do you have a girlfriend, Daddy?"

And Eddie says, "No, not exactly."

And Christopher says, "Oh, so you have a boyfriend?"

That's that. It's that easy with an seven-year-old, which Eddie is beyond grateful for. Everyone else might want an explanation - rightfully so, given that Eddie has only ever been with women before now - but Christopher doesn't care, because Eddie is his dad, and his only concern is that his dad is happy.

He lucked out, he really did.

"I have something to tell you," he admits to Buck when they're on their third fake-date.

"Are you fake-breaking up with me already?" Buck worries, looking actually and genuinely concerned.

"No," Eddie says quickly. "No I... look, I have a kid."

Buck brightens immeasurably. "You have a kid?"

Eddie pulls out his phone, shows Buck a picture of the two of them together. "His name is Christopher," he says quietly. "He's seven."

"And he's super adorable!" Buck is pretty much glowing. "I love kids!"

Eddie is the luckiest fake boyfriend in the world. Most people would run screaming from a man with kids even if they were genuinely interested in him and not getting paid. But Buck seems excited about Chris, which is... new, and foreign, to Eddie.

"That's good," he says, smiling a little. "Because he's excited to meet you."

Eddie isn't worried about introducing Buck to Christopher, because he and Buck can continue to be friends once all this is over. Once Shannon backs off, anyway.

"Can't wait," Buck says cheerfully. "It'll be good for me to have someone my own age to play with. How'd Shannon take it, anyway?"

Eddie, who's snorted coffee up the wrong windpipe with Buck's statement, coughs and clears his throat. "She didn't," he says. "Which is maybe the only thing she could've done which would be more disconcerting than what I expected her to do."

"Which was?"

"Flip," Eddie admits. "But she didn't. I know she saw the photo, but she hasn't said anything."

"That kind of crazy ex," Buck says sagely. "Right. This could be fun."

Eddie winces. He's sure Shannon has her reasons, and that to her, they don't seem that crazy. Eddie left too, once. Maybe they're both at fault. But she hasn't listened, and that's forced his hand, seeing as nobody would actually believe him if he were to tell them he was being stalked by his ex. What would they do anyway? She's a white woman with a job, and he's half-Mexican and a single dad at that. It's a battle he's not dumb enough to think he'll win.

"You okay?" Buck asks.

Eddie shakes himself. "Yeah," he says. "Let's find somewhere to eat."

~*~

"I hope you know what you're doing, Edmundo."

Full name from Pepa is never a good sign. "What are you talking about?" he asks, hoping that playing dumb will get him out of this conversation.

It doesn't, it hasn't, and it probably never will. "You've gone from one gringa to another."

Well, that's just harsh. "You don't even know Buck, Pepa," he says gently. "He's good. You'll see when you meet him."

Buck is coming over for dinner to meet his Pepa and abuela and Chris. Eddie is fucking terrified, and also feels like he might have thrown Buck to the wolves a little in doing this. It's not the whole family, but it's the whole family he has here.

"Well, he is handsome, I'll give him that," Pepa says.

Eddie can't argue, because Buck is good-looking. He feels his face heat up a little bit, which is unfortunate timing, given that the doorbell has just rung.

"Dios, no estoy listo," Eddie mumbles as he heads to the door to open it.

When he does, Buck is standing on the other side, beaming brightly and carrying a bottle of wine - and a bottle of grape juice. He's wearing a skintight red henley that outlines his arms and chest, he's clean shaven, and he's wearing dark blue jeans that hug his thighs so beautifully they should be illegal-

And Eddie is straight and absolutely not following that train of thought any fucking further.

"Hi," Buck says, and he's a little pink around his cheeks and nose, which immediately puts Eddie at ease. Buck's nervous too, apparently, which makes this easier. And easier to pass off as real. At least they're in it together.

"Hi," Eddie says, and smiles. "Right on time."

"I can get ready in about two minutes flat. The LAFD teaches you more than one skill."

Eddie laughs, and Buck steps in close, puts his free hand on Eddie's waist, and kisses him on the cheek. They'd talked about it, discussed what affection to show in front of Eddie's family to make it believable - and it is believable, because Buck caught him by surprise, and he's suddenly flustered.

"What's that?" he asks, nodding at the bottle and knowing perfectly well what it is. He feels like he's flushed, and Buck seems relieved for the distraction too.

"Wine for us," he says, and holds up the other bottle, "and grape juice for Christopher."

They're interrupted then by Pepa, who's come down the hallway to watch their interaction. She takes Buck in - Pepa will be the most difficult hurdle, because she's guarded against outsiders breaking her boys' hearts, especially after Shannon. Eddie totally forgot to warn Buck about that, too. Fuck.

Buck sees Pepa just as she notices him. "Hello!" he says, smiling as he steps forward. Eddie wonders if she'd seen their little display in the doorway. "I'm Buck. It's really nice to meet you."

Dios, Buck is charming when he wants to be. Pepa actually smiles, and it only gets bigger when Buck willingly steps into a hug and bows down so she can hold him properly. He's even smiling as he does it. Eddie really did luck out in the fake boyfriend department.

"Well," Pepa says, pulling back and taking Buck in, "you're certainly handsome, I have to give my nephew that." And then, as if Eddie wasn't furiously red enough, she looks past Buck, smiles, and says, "Bien hecho."

Buck has the good graces to not look confused. "Sorry I'm a little late," he says. "Work."

"And what do you do for work?" Pepa asks, analysing again.

"I'm a firefighter with the LAFD," Buck says.

Thank God Buck is employed, and that it's respectably employed. Pépa smiles. "Our own hero," she says.

"You're a firefighter?!"

Chris, evidently hearing all the commotion, has entered the hallway, his eyes wide. And this is the part Eddie was most nervous about - if Buck doesn't get along with Christopher, hell, even judges him, then this won't work.

But Buck doesn't bat an eyelid. Eddie hadn't warned him about the cerebral palsy. It's hard enough on him. Buck doesn't react, just sinks to his knees so that he's not so impossibly tall and says, "Your dad didn't tell you the single coolest thing about me?"

"No!" Chris turns on Eddie. "You didn't say Buck was a firefighter!"

"I forgot," Eddie says honestly.

"You know," Buck says, conspiratorially, "if it was okay with Eddie, I could ask my captain if you could have a tour at the firestation."

Eddie knows he should be bothered by the fact that Buck said it in front of Christopher, which means he's now sort of obligated to say yes, but his head is still swimming with relief that Buck and Christopher appear to like each other. Chris's eyes get huge, and he turns to Eddie.

"Daddy?"

"Okay, but you have to let Buck ask his captain first," Eddie says sternly. "Deal?"

"Deal, deal!" Chris squeals. He reaches up, touches Buck's face - the mark, over his eye. "What's that?"

"Christopher," Eddie warns.

"It's okay," Buck says quickly. "It's a birthmark. I was born like this."

A birthmark. Not an old injury or a scar, then. Somehow, Eddie feels a little relieved about that - like he's glad Buck hasn't been hurt.

"Oh." Christopher's nodding. "I was born like this too."

"We were both born with superpowers then," Buck says cheerfully. "Maybe you should come work with me. You'd be the best partner ever."

Christopher laughs. "I have a firetruck in my room!" he says. "It lights up and everything!"

"What! That's so cool. I don't even have a firetruck in my room."

"I'll share mine," Chris says, and promptly grabs Buck's hand to drag him down the hallway, where Eddie can faintly hear him being introduced to abuela. He collects the wine bottle and the grape juice from where Buck had left them on the bench just inside the front door.

Pepa is watching him. "I like this one," she says, and Eddie almost breathes a sigh of relief, until she follows it up with, "Don't mess this one up, sobrino!"

"Vamos, tía," he moans. "Han pasado cinco minutos..."

"Todavía vale la pena decir," she replies, but she's smiling.

~*~

Chris requests to sit next to Buck at dinner, and Buck almost glows with the praise that is being shown favouritism by a seven year old. Which is unexpectedly nice, and only makes Eddie more determined to be Buck's friend after all this is over.

Eddie pours the adults some wine, and Christopher some grape juice - the presence of which hasn't gone unnoticed by Pepa or abuela. They're both smiling at him approvingly, and it doesn't stop as Buck cuts up Chris's dinner for him without even being asked.

After dinner, both women take their leave and Eddie is left with Buck and Christopher. He puts Chris to bed, and when he returns, Buck is finishing up the dishes.

"So," Eddie breathes out. "Uh, I didn't realise that I'd be throwing you to the wolves."

"What?" Buck asks. "I had fun."

"Being grilled by my pepa can't be your definition of fun, Buck."

"That was grilling?" Buck's smiling; he offers Eddie a beer, and Eddie takes it. They return to the living room, where they settle on the couch and Buck stretches out. "You have an awesome kid."

Eddie smiles. "He's pretty great. Sorry I didn't tell you about his cerebral palsy."

Buck shakes his head. "That's up to you to tell me," he says. "Not for me to question you on."

Eddie nods. "Issues at birth," he says shortly. "He got stuck. But he's a great kid. Never lets it slow him down. Thank you, by the way. For offering to take him to the fire station. He'll love that."

"I'll ask Cap about it tomorrow," Buck promises. "That's rough, man. It's gotta be hard, raising a kid on your own."

Eddie nods, because it is. Buck's maybe the only person who's really acknowledged it though. "I just worry I'm not doing right by him," he admits. "Dragging him around the country, not getting back with his mom... what if that's what's best for him, you know?"

Buck watches him thoughtfully, taking a swig of beer. "I think," he says, "not that I know anything, because I don't have a kid... but I think he'll do better if you're happy as well. And if you're hiring a fake boyfriend, then you probably wouldn't be happy with her."

Eddie feels almost at ease about that. Damn, Buck is good at this. He's kind, which anyone can see. Christopher obviously really likes him. Eddie does, too. Their date is over, and Buck isn't contractually obligated to stay here. But he is, with a beer, looking at home on Eddie's couch.

"Thanks," Eddie says.

Buck smiles brightly. "Don't mention it." He gestures at the TV. "Is that Mortal Kombat?"

~*~

Meeting Eddie's family goes well enough that Pepa and abuela tell the rest of his family, who all promptly start gushing over Buck.

Eddie's lucky, really, for his family. They didn't care when he told them he was with a man, even if they were surprised. They were mostly happy he was happy, and finally attempting a relationship after Shannon.

Which makes him feel guilty as hell, because it isn't real.

Still, Christopher loves Buck, and Eddie loves that Christopher has another adult in his life he can trust. It's the next day when his phone pings at work, and he wipes grease off his hands before reaching into his pocket to look at it.

**From: Buck, 2:49PM** : I asked Cap if Chris can come into the station and he's all for it! When are you off next?

Buck remembered. Eddie smiles. Chris is on a week's break right now, so he can definitely do sometime during the week.

**To: Buck, 2:50PM** : I have Thursday off. Are you working?

The bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again. Eddie worries at his lip.

**From: Buck, 2:50PM** : I finish up night shift that day, so I'll be done by 8. I'll hang around and we can show him the ropes!

**To: Buck, 2:50PM** : Are you sure? Won't you want to sleep?

**From: Buck, 2:51PM** : no rest for the wicked >:)

"God," Eddie groans. "What the hell did I get myself into?"

~*~

Christopher basically vibrates with energy until Thursday, and he's up so early Eddie needs three cups of coffee just to leave the house.

Buck works for station 118, a fact he seems very proud of. When they roll up, he's waiting by the door, still in his uniform - dark slacks and a form-fitting LAFD t-shirt. He seems genuinely pleased to hear Chris's excited yelling.

"Hey, buddy!" he says, and bends down for a clumsy Chris hug.

"Hi, Buck!"

"Hi, Buck," Eddie mimics, and is surprised when he gets much the same treatment Christopher did, only Buck's not kneeling anymore. He's taller than Eddie by two or three inches, just enough to make the height different pronounced, and he hugs with his whole body, like he really means it.

"Come on, everyone's waiting to meet you!" Eddie's surprised when Chris reaches his arms up, and Buck complies instantly, lifts his kid into his arms like it's nothing. "Look, there's the pole, and..."

Eddie follows along behind, taking in the fire house with its open ceiling and trucks, gleaming. Buck looks a little tired, a little faded around the edges, and Eddie wonders if he got much sleep while they were on-call. He somehow knows that Buck started at four the day before, which would make this a sixteen hour shift.

"Dad, they have a pinball machine!"

They do, which is honestly pretty cool.

"Guys," Buck calls, and a few people look up. "This is Eddie and Christopher. Eddie, Chris, this is Captain Bobby Nash-" He indicates a tall, solid older man standing at the breakfast counter - "Hen, and Chimney!"

Hen is a kind-looking black woman with flawless skin and glasses, and Chimney is an Asian man with black hair, peppered with a few strands of grey. Chimney is eating celery dipped into peanut butter - and, dios, _what?_ \- and Hen is at a gaming console. Eddie wants to say _white people_ , but he can't, really, because Buck and Bobby are the only two white people here, and they're outnumbered.

"You're even cuter than Buck said you were," Hen coos to Chris, who laughs.

"Which one?" Chimney asks, and they high five, grinning ear to ear. Buck is blushing a little, and he lets Christopher down to have a look around.

"Bobby," Buck's captain says, and shakes Eddie's hand. "We've heard a lot about you. Welcome to our firehouse, and ignore those two. They're just teasing."

"We're just teasing Buck," Chimney corrects. "We won't scare Eddie off. Yet."

"Guys," Buck says - whines, really, and Eddie grins.

"He deserves it. He let Christopher eat so much sugar two nights ago I had to chase him around for an hour just to burn it off."

"He used puppy eyes," Buck says pleadingly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Gee, I wonder who he learned that from?" Hen asks, hip-checking Buck on the way to the kitchen.

"Boundaries, Buckaroo," Chimney says sternly. "You have to have boundaries."

Bobby rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "Have you eaten?" he asks. "I just made breakfast before we all knock off from night shift. You and Chris are welcome to join us."

"Say yes or he'll be sad for a week," Chimney says. "Nobody gets offered food from Bobby and says no."

"I like food," Chris says, and Buck laughs.

"I guess that settles it," Eddie says, feeling a little overwhelmed at how quickly he's been included in this little family unit. "If there's room, we'd love to stay for breakfast."

Breakfast is a near repeat from dinner. Christopher sits next to Buck and Buck cuts up all his food for him, which means Eddie can be interviewed - he's not stupid, he knows that's exactly what's going on - by Bobby, Chimney and Hen.

Judging by the way Chimney and Hen rib Buck constantly, asking questions about how he is as a boyfriend to Eddie, Buck is very much the baby of the group. A tall, muscular baby, but the baby nonetheless. He has no doubt that if he hurts Buck, in any way, his life won't be worth living.

As far as he's aware, Buck's team think they're genuinely dating. Buck had mentioned that this is the biggest package he's done for the site, so maybe he never had a reason to introduce anyone before now. Eddie knows this is for Chris, but it's nice, to sit and talk with adults while Buck keeps Chris occupied with everything around the firehouse. He's not even worried when Buck takes Chris downstairs to look at the truck.

"Thank you for this," he says. "I know you guys worked a long shift."

"We never get to do fun stuff like this," Hen says, smiling. "I've got a kid. It's hard sometimes to be away. They always want to go with you. So it's nice to be able to have Christopher here."

"Besides," Chimney says, "he's keeping Buck entertained. Really, you're doing us the favour here."

Eddie looks up the table at Bobby, who's smiling at them all. "We're happy to have you," he says, not adding as much to the teasing as the other two have been. "Burning off Buck's excess energy is just a bonus."

"He only got two hours' sleep last night," Hen explains. "Better take him home and make him sleep, or he'll be climbing the walls."

"He had seven red bulls," Chim says. "Sorry."

"Busy night?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, the usual. Full moon, man. Makes people crazy. At least one person got stuck in an outhouse and another managed to get winched between two walls. Sometimes you just look at people and wonder, how the hell did you end up here? Should I free you, or is this Darwinism?"

"Darwinism doesn't work in modern society," Buck's voice drifts. He's coming back up the stairs, holding Christopher, who's wearing an oversized firefighter's jacket. "Herd immunity and social structure have pretty much eliminated it."

Eddie blinks, and Chim and Hen grin. "That's our little Wikipedia," Hen coos.

Buck rolls his eyes, settles Chris back at the table. The jacket has BUCKLEY emblazoned across the back of it. Obviously, Buck's taken Chris on the full tour.

"So," Chimney says, "Eddie. Is he everything you ever dreamed of?"

Eddie can feel his face heating up, but Buck saves him by throwing a tater-tot across the table, hitting Chimney square in the middle of the forehead, and saying, "I'm everything anyone dreams of, Chimney."

"Oh, ugh, save it, Evan," Hen teases.

Eddie blinks. "Evan?"

Four sets of eyes turn on him.

"Wait," Chimney says. "You thought-"

"His name isn't-" Hen gets in.

"He doesn't need to know!" Buck says despairingly. "Will you guys let me _live_?"

"Nope," Chimney says. "Eddie, my friend, our precious Buckaroo once went by another name."

"Another name?" Eddie's beginning to smile, because Buck is so clearly trying to hide in his food it's not funny. "What other name?"

"This," Hen says, standing up and putting her hands on Buck's shoulders, "is Evan James Buckley."

"Your name is _Evan_?" Eddie asks, and Chimney chokes on his water.

Buck looks downright pained. "Nobody calls me Evan unless they're teasing me, or I'm in trouble," he explains, stabbing furiously at his remaining tater-tots. "Everyone just calls me Buck. Or-"

"Buckaroo," Eddie says, realising where the username came from. Because - yeah, Buck really doesn't seem like much of an Evan, or even a James. Buck suits him. Evan sounds almost stuffy. Even Buck's Facebook page lists him as Buck, not Evan.

Buck pouts at him. "Please don't call me Evan," he begs.

"Call him Evan," Chim eggs Eddie on.

"Alright, alright," Bobby says, standing up and beginning to collect the plates. "I'm calling an end to the open-season on Buck, you're having too much fun."

"Thank you," Buck breathes.

They head downstairs after that, with Buck putting all his things back in his locker and Eddie taking Chris back around the trucks. His kid is glowing, and he himself feels like he's refreshed. It's early in the morning, and the firefighters are clearly exhausted, but they really put effort into making Eddie and Christopher comfortable, and he owes them for that.

Buck exits a short while later, in his civilian clothes, with a bag slung over his shoulder. He looks pleasantly sleepy, his hair falling out of its careful, gel styling and getting a little curly at the front. Eddie's heart does somersaults.

"That was fun," Buck says. "Thanks for coming, man. I think it really cheered everyone up."

"Rough night?" Eddie asks, a little concerned. Buck yawns and nods.

"Lots of calls. Didn't get as much sleep as we normally would on-call. It's alright, though, I have the next few days off."

"Are you okay to drive?"

Buck yawns, nods.

"I'll give you a lift," Eddie decides.

"Eddie, man, that's-"

"You're beat, Buck. Let me give you a lift. It's the least I can do after you pulled off all this for us."

"Okay," Buck says, smiling tiredly, and he piles into Eddie's car with him, in the front. Christopher is downright gleeful about this development, even as Buck passes out in the front seat in about two minutes flat.

"Buck worked a really long shift today, buddy," Eddie says. "So we're gonna have to be quiet and let him rest."

"Okay, Dad," Chris says. "I'll read him a story so he sleeps."

Eddie's heart swells. He lucked out. If he got everything else in his life wrong, Christopher will always be the one thing he got right.

Buck rouses when they arrive back at Eddie's place, and he stumbles inside with them, not arguing. He changes in the bathroom, a soft white t-shirt and sweats, and collapses onto the couch when Eddie directs him to.

Eddie wants to tell Christopher not to bother him, but when Christopher approaches, holding a book and declaring his intention to read Buck a story, Buck looks like his kid hung the moon and the stars. He hauls Chris up onto the couch, and they lie there, back to chest, with Chris stumbling over his words and Buck sleepily helping, where he can.

Buck falls asleep first, his arm draped over Chris's body, but Chris isn't far off. Eddie takes the book before it can fall and startle them both, and covers them with a blanket. It should feel strange, his fake boyfriend falling asleep on his couch with his son, but it doesn't. Somehow, it feels like Buck belongs here.

Eddie's lonely. He knows as much. He doesn't trust people, and he especially doesn't trust people with Chris. It's hard to form long-lasting bonds when he's seen friends get blown up by landmines and faced his own mortality. Sometimes, nothing feels permanent. On bad days, he doesn't feel anything at all.

He doesn't want to move, and he doesn't want to disturb them. He potters around quietly in the kitchen, cleans up, does laundry. Actually gets some time to sit down and read. Before he knows it, it's midday, and Buck and Chris have both slept soundly for a few hours.

Which, of course, means it all had to be disrupted by a knock on the door.

Eddie goes to get it, thinking maybe it's the package he was supposed to get, and - with a cold shock of displeasure - opens it to find Shannon on the other side.

She looks furious. And Eddie had sort of forgotten that Shannon is the whole reason Buck is passed out on his couch anyway.

"You can't be serious," she says, by way of greeting.

Eddie crosses his arms and leans on the door frame. "Hello to you too."

"This is unbelievable, Eddie. I mean, seriously, telling me you had a new girlfriend was one thing, but to find out from Instagram that you actually have a boyfriend? Tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not," he says.

"Is he at least employed?"

"I'm not answering that. I'm sure you've already looked him up." Eddie's trying to stay calm, but he very much feels like he's all that stands between Christopher and Shannon.

She leans around him. "Is Chris in there?"

"He doesn't want to see you," Eddie says quietly. He's not lying - the last time Shannon had Christopher, he'd come home upset, pushed beyond his limits, and not wanting to go back to her. He'd clung to Eddie for the better part of the week, uncharacteristically needy and sad. He hasn't talked about it, beyond asking Eddie to not make him go again.

At the moment, Eddie has the luxury of affording him that protection, because their custody agreement is informal. He doesn't know how to explain to a seven year old that if he doesn't go with his mom willingly, the courts are going to make him. He can't have Christopher feeling abandoned. He just can't.

"You don't get to keep him from me," she says heatedly. "He's my son-"

"Shannon, please," Eddie begs. "He's sleeping. Can't we do this another time?"

"No, because you don't even have the courtesy to tell me that you're seeing someone new!"

"I don't owe you that," Eddie says softly. It's an effort, to keep his voice pitched down, but yelling will only get him curious neighbours. He's the only thing standing between Christopher and Shannon and he can't jeopardise that, even to make a point. "It's my life-"

"Eddie? Are you okay?"

He's the only thing standing between Shannon and Christopher - except Buck. Buck, who has wandered to the front door, face stamped with the wrinkles from the pillowcase and his hair askew. He still looks tired, but not as tired as he did.

Shannon almost rears back, she's that angry. "That's him?"

"You saw him on Instagram," Eddie says. "So you know it is."

Buck approaches, quietly, and stands at Eddie's side. Eddie's surprised when Buck's fingers lace with his, until he remembers they're supposed to be a couple and that it's supposed to be believable. Buck's this close, and Eddie feels almost bolstered by it. Buck might not be his boyfriend, but at least Eddie doesn't feel alone.

"He's in your house already," Shannon says. "Jesus Christ, Eddie. Does Christopher know about this?"

"Christopher knows," he says evenly.

Shannon's eyes take Buck in, clearly disdainful, lingering on the birthmark near his eye. "Hmm. Enjoy it while you can. It's not going to last."

With that, she turns and leaves. Buck leans on Eddie sleepily.

"That's your ex?" he asks.

"Very astute of you, Buck," Eddie says dryly.

Buck purses his lips for a moment, then tugs Eddie back inside. "I'm gonna have to up my crazy game," he admits.

Eddie, God damn it, laughs.


	3. The Incredible Buck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys should know that every time i post anything on this site i feel like the flaming elmo gif
> 
> also i've totally given up on having any rhyme or reason for chapter names i used to really think about it and go latin and now i'm like oh well it's this shitty chapter name or agonise over it for a month and we out here in the year of our lord and saviour jesus christ 2020 not suffering from analysis paralysis

"Why don't you just yell at her?"

Buck is sitting in his kitchen, sleepily balancing his head on his hands. He's blinking blearily at Eddie, who's making them sandwiches for lunch.

Buck hardly gets to eat on his shift, Eddie's worked out. Most of the time when they sit down to eat, the alarm goes off. Eddie's not great at cooking, but he can make a decent sandwich.

"I can't just yell at her," Eddie says. He doesn't expect Buck to get it. He's kind of impressed Buck hasn't run for his damn life by now, what with Shannon's little performance at the door. "It doesn't work like that for me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a half-Mexican single father with a special needs kid, and Shannon is a white woman whose parents have money," Eddie grits out. "You work it out."

Buck looks suddenly very awake, and tense, and Eddie feels immediately awful for snapping at him. "Sorry," he sighs.

"You think she'd use that against you?" Buck asks softly. "I mean, she's basically stalking you. Don't you kind of have the upper hand with who's worse?"

Eddie shakes his head. Buck is white, which means in his world, that's how it works - tell the cops what happened and they'll listen to you, and believe you. But Eddie's not from that world - Eddie is from a world where skintone carries risks and the slight lilt to his voice has more than once been the reason people look down on him. He's already considered an incompetent parent just by virtue of the fact that he's male, and there's not much working in his favour. In Eddie's world, the cards have and always will be a little stacked against him.

(It's the only reason he's grateful Christopher looks like Shannon. Maybe he won't face the same problems, at least not Eddie's specific set.)

"That's really messed up," Buck says, sounding genuinely upset. Eddie puts his sandwich down in front of him and slumps at the table. "You don't think anyone would believe you?"

"I know no one would believe me," he says tiredly.

"I do," Buck says. "I believe you."

It's that easy in Buck's world, that he can take Eddie at his word and just - believe him. It's nice, to have someone to talk to. Someone who'll listen and support and not just worry endlessly. He loves his Pepa and abuela, but they're getting older, and he doesn't want to give them more to stress about.

"Thanks," he says. "For today as well. We had a good time, I think."

Buck brightens. "So they really liked you," he says. "Cap says I should bring you back for Sunday dinners."

"Do you want me there?"

Buck blinks, and a little flush steals up his neck. Eddie finds himself tracing it with his eyes, following its progress up the column of Buck's throat until it reaches his cheeks. He doesn't want to, but he's helpless.

"Um. Yeah. I do."

"Okay." Eddie smiles faintly. "Bobby's a good cook. I'm sure Christopher wouldn't argue."

Buck takes a bite of his sandwich. He's still flushed pink, which is more attractive than it has any right to be to Eddie. If he's still feeling tense about Eddie's outburst, he doesn't show it.

"Does your team think this is real, Buck?" Eddie asks.

Buck chews thoughtfully. "I haven't told them either way," he admits. "They know I do the fake boyfriend thing sometimes. I just think they know I'm happy, so they don't really care what it is." He smiles a little. "Hen and Chim tease me no matter what I do."

He looks towards the door thoughtfully, then says, "So... is that the last of her?"

"Not by a long shot," Eddie mutters.

~*~

"Dad, Dad, Buck's on TV!"

Eddie drops the dish he's holding in the sink, splashing bubbles up onto his t-shirt. He and Buck are supposed to have a "date night" tonight, going out and everything to demonstrate to the world (and Shannon) how not-straight Eddie is. Buck's running late, and hasn't called, which is unlike him. "What?"

"He's on TV!"

Eddie jogs to the living room, where Chris is, for whatever reason, watching the news and not cartoons. He steps in closer, sits down on the coffee table, and watches.

"... live from downtown L.A where firefighters of the 118 are desperately trying to extinguish the flames engulfing this apartment building. It appears one of these firefighters is going to go through the glass-"

"Please don't be Buck," Eddie says, right as the helicopter's camera zooms in enough to clearly read BUCKLEY splashed across the back of the firefighter's jacket.

"I told you it was Buck!" Chris says excitedly.

"Maldita sea, por qué siempre eres tú..."

Buck is rappelling down the side of the building, finds his way to a bit of glass that has already mostly given, and smashes it in. He and Chimney are inside the building in a flash, with water still arcing over the lower levels.

"We've had unverified reports that there are still people alive in that building," the newscaster says, "otherwise it's highly doubtful the captain would send his team in. We've got five firefighter fleets on the ground right now and five firefighters in the building, it's not looking good for whoever's inside."

"Daddy," Chris says, suddenly quiet. "Buck's inside."

Eddie slides to the floor and pulls Christopher into his arms. Buck's job is dangerous, Eddie knows that, but he's not ready to lose a friend when this is the first one he's had in a long time. Buck's done a lot for him - for both of them - and here, on the hard wood floor of the living room, Eddie can't do anything except pray.

Movement in the window. Chimney exits, a woman clinging to him as he gets to the ladder, then puts her down. They begin to walk, with people on the ground cheering.

"We have one firefighter out," the newscaster says. "Two more appear to be exiting from the floor below-"

They are. But neither uniform says BUCKLEY on the back, and Eddie hears himself say, "Por favor, Dios, no él," as if he's a thousand miles from his body.

Movement in the window. Buck appears, pushing his own victim up onto the ladder. He's at a different level - God knows how - and he's about to follow the man himself when something stops him.

"Daddy, it's Bucky!" Chris squeals.

Buck turns back to the window.

"Don't you dare, Buck," Eddie says.

"That firefighter is going back inside the structure," the newscaster says. "And his team doesn't seem happy about it either."

"They're not the only ones," Eddie says, thinking about all the ways he'll kill Buck if he makes it out of the building in one piece.

"We've got two firefighters still in there," the newscaster says. "One from the 118 and one from 214. The death toll is unknown at this stage, and the firefighters are still attempting to put the fires out."

"Daddy, why did Buck go back in?"

Eddie knows, logically, that Buck didn't go back in for the fun of it - he had to have seen something, human enough in movement that he decided he had to go back. Doesn't mean Eddie has to like it, so he bites out a quick, "It's his job, mijo."

"I want him to come out now," Chris says, and Eddie holds him a little tighter.

"He's out!"

Eddie's head jerks up, finding the helicopter's camera zoomed in on the window below the one Buck exited from earlier. He's standing on the edge of it, balanced precariously, breathing mask gone and around the face of a little girl, who's clinging to him with every limb she has.

"That firefighter from the 118 is out and he's got a survivor with him," the newscaster says as the ladder is lowered so that Buck can step onto it. "He's looking a bit shaky but they're both okay! We have a lot of thanks to give to our firefighters today, folks."

Buck stumbles down the ladder with the kid, being quickly divested of the little girl, his helmet, and his fire jacket at the bottom. Hen is getting an oxygen mask on him straight away, the suspenders are yanked off, and he's bundled into a blanket.

Eddie hasn't been to church since he got married in one, but he finds himself looking up at the ceiling, blinking back tears, and whispering, "Gracias Dios."

"Daddy, he saved that girl!" Chris yells excitedly. "Buck's a hero!"

"He sure is, buddy." Eddie says, squeezing Chris in close until his son laughs and squirms. "He sure is."

Their relief is short lived; Eddie's fixated on the image of Buck, sitting on the curb with a mask over his face, being checked over by Hen - he keeps trying to push her hand away and take the mask off, and she's swatting him for it - when sound filters back in.

"That fifth firefighter from the 214 hasn't returned yet," Eddie hears.

He wants to feel happy because Buck's out of the building, and not going anywhere if the lines he's being connected to are any indication. He's trying to stand up, but Hen keeps pushing him down.

But deep down in his gut, he knows Buck is the last firefighter who's going to walk out of that building alive.

"The firefighters will continued to try and put out the flames," the newscaster says - and even she sounds subdued. They all know. "But it seems like-"

Eddie switches the channel before Chris can hear any more of it.

"Daddy? What happened to Buck's friend?"

Buck's friend. Eddie hadn't thought of it like that - they're from different houses, but Eddie supposes they'd be friends the same way he was with his unit in Afghanistan. Not close, maybe, but they shared a common goal, a purpose.

"They're still looking," Eddie says, because that's the only way he can tell the truth and not break Christopher's heart. "How about you go draw Buck a picture, and I'll keep going with dinner, huh? He's gonna be really hungry!"

The plan, Eddie thinks, is this - he calls Buck's firehouse, finds out which hospital he's been taken to, and shows up with food. It's the least he can do, after all.

The plan is blown to smithereens when the doorbell rings an hour and a half later, and he opens the front door to find none other than Buck standing there.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Buck gushes, immediately, "we had kind of a situation and we ended up doing overtime and my phone went flat and-"

"Eres estúpido o algo?!" Eddie says, livid that Buck has apparently checked himself out. He speaks in Spanish when he's upset, can't help it, and he doesn't feel like translating right now.

Buck looks wounded. "Look, whatever you just said, it didn't sound friendly," he says. "I'm really sorry, Eddie, I would've called. I would've. It was just..." He shifts, blinks; his eyes look wet, Eddie realises. "It was a rough shift and I wanted to see you."

Eddie sighs, stepping forward and pulling Buck into a hug gently. Buck winces at the action, even as he presses his face to Eddie's neck, and Eddie resolves to check him over later with his own eyes. He rubs the back of Buck's neck with his thumb.

"Deberías ester en el hospital," he admonishes softly.

"I still don't know what you're saying..."

"He said you should be in the hospital," Christopher offers, who's crutched out to meet them. "Bucky, we saw you on the news! You're a hero!"

Eddie feels the moment Buck clicks; he takes a step back, staring at them both.

"You saw that?"

"We sure did," Eddie mutters tensely. "We were just about to come visit you at the hospital, where I'm guessing you should be but checked yourself out of."

"Dad made you food," Chris says, grinning. "And I drew you a picture!"

Buck looks thoroughly overwhelmed in that moment, and Eddie realises, belatedly, that Buck came here - he didn't stop anywhere, didn't hang out at the firehouse, he came here. To them. Because he was unhappy.

"Chris," Eddie says, "how about you go get Buck the picture you drew him?"

"Okay!"

Chris hobbles away, and Eddie turns back to Buck, pulls him back into a hug. Buck's shaking a little, and Eddie can feel that the collar of his shirt is getting wet.

He holds Buck tighter. Maybe if he holds tight enough, he can stop Buck falling apart - and if not, he'll be able to catch the pieces. He knows they lost someone today. He knows Buck will probably blame himself.

"Sorry I called you stupid," he says, and Buck chokes on a laugh that sounds like it was meant to be a sob.

"So that's what you said."

"Yeah. I meant it, but I'm still sorry. Why aren't you in hospital?"

"There was nothing they could do there, Eds. Really. I'm not burned, I got a little smoke in my lungs but I'm fine." Buck pulls back. "I hate hospitals," he admits. "Every time I'm in one I feel worse. So I came here instead."

"I'm glad you did," Eddie says, and he means it. "I made fajitas for dinner. You should eat something, you look pale."

Buck sighs, rubs at his eyes like he's trying to scrub away the tears. "Okay."

~*~

After dinner, they put Chris to bed - Chris wants a story from Buck, which Eddie is about to veto until he sees how truly grateful Buck looks to be asked in the first place.

Eddie breaks out the first aid kit as Buck reads Christopher a story, his tall frame curled awkwardly on Chris's child-sized bed. Buck said he wasn't injured, but he did wince when Eddie hugged him the first time, so something must be going on.

"Sit," he says, pointing at the couch, when Buck exits.

Buck has the good sense not to argue with him, and sits on the couch. Eddie takes up a spot on the coffee table. "Shirt off," he says.

"Eddie, Hen already..."

The expression on his face must be thunderous, because Buck winces and pulls his shirt off. Eddie's mouth feels a little dry - Buck's impressively wide across the shoulders, barrel-chested, with thick arms and strong hands.

Buck smiles, almost cocky, almost back to normal. "See something you like?"

"Yeah, you, alive, estúpido," Eddie mutters, but Buck only chuckles warmly at him. No offence taken, as usual. "I know Hen already checked you over."

Buck sits still and lets Eddie manipulate his body. He's bruised up on one side, and there's a few cuts on his right arm and hand - from the glass, he explains - but otherwise, he's fine. Just sore and tired.

"You really know what you're doing," Buck notes. "Maybe you should come join the 118. Always looking for new EMTs."

Eddie hesitates. Then, "I was a field medic in Afghanistan. This is sort of my thing."

"For real? How come you're in a garage, then?"

He flips Buck's hand over, tracing the lines of a few cuts in his palm with his eyes, buying time to avoid answering. Buck's hands are shockingly warm, and they're sitting close enough that their knees are touching.

"I'm not ready," he says quietly, and he's not. He still dreams about it - about waking up in a ditch with his friend's body nearby, hands stained with blood, unable to help. Unable to do anything. He's had a lifetime of watching people die, and he's not sure he can go back to it.

Buck grabs his wrists. His hands are at Buck's shoulders, probing gently at the muscles that connect to his neck. Buck's thumbs press into his pulse point.

"If you want to talk about it, I'll listen," he offers.

Eddie has no doubt he would. He's jealous of Buck, in a way - Buck wears his heart on his sleeve, where Eddie's sure it's going to get wounded one day - maybe it already has - and he openly feels things, cries when he needs to, doesn't seem to pay any mind to what people might think of him.

Eddie is the opposite. He can't let it go. Any of it.

"Thanks, Buck," he says. "I might take you up on that one day."

Buck smiles at him. He seems content enough to sit here, with Eddie crowded into his space, checking him over. He hasn't complained or even resisted.

"Here," Eddie says, suddenly hyperaware of how close they're sitting. "Ibuprofen. For the bruising."

Buck shakes his head, pushes the pills away. "Buck," Eddie says warningly, about to give him a serve about taking care of himself and not just monstering through the pain.

"I can't take ibuprofen," Buck says apologetically. "I'm on blood thinners."

By the expression on his face, he doesn't want to talk about it, so Eddie uses every shred of self-restraint he has and says, "Okay. Stay here and I'll rustle up some Tylenol."

Buck leans back into his couch with a yawn, blue eyes soft and sleepy, and begins to rummage for his t-shirt. Eddie retreats to the bathroom, looking somewhat frantically for Tylenol.

Buck is on blood thinners? Buck's twenty-six, there's no way he should be on blood thinners for anything and still working as a firefighter. What the hell happened? It makes sense that all his cuts look bright pink still - he probably only just stopped bleeding.

He finds an unopened pack of children's Tylenol in the cupboard and takes it back out. Buck has curled up on his side, watching the TV sleepily.

"Here." Eddie sits down on the coffee table. "You'll have to take about twenty of them but-"

Buck laughs, which is a great sound to hear after the evening they've had. Eddie smiles at him, pops a few pills out of the packet, and leans over.

There's a communication mix-up somewhere, because Eddie thought Buck would take them from him with his hand, and Buck evidently thinks Eddie's about to feed them to him. Eddie changes tactics at the last second, so that he doesn't bump Buck's nose, and presses them gently into Buck's mouth with his thumb.

This is weird. Weird and intimate and weirdly intimate. He tries not to let it show - plays it off like he meant to do that while helping Buck drink.

That's when he notices Buck is wincing, and realises Buck probably laid down to take the pressure off his injured side, and that that's why he hasn't sat up again. He immediately feels guilty for thinking anything else.

"Careful, Eds," Buck says, and when Eddie looks at him, his smile is a little uncertain. "This is supposed to be fake."

"We're not fake friends," Eddie says softly. "Crash here tonight, if you're okay with Chris waking you up in the morning."

"Sounds better than my alarm clock," Buck sighs, getting more comfortable.

"Alright." Eddie can't help but feel glad that Buck will be just down the hallway all night. He can tell the other man isn't exactly back to one hundred percent, still has the death of the other firefighter weighing on his mind, but at least Eddie can keep an eye on him here.

"Get comfy," he says, standing up. "I'll find you a pillow."

~*~

Eddie wakes up the next morning to silence, which is so weird he doesn't even get to enjoy it - Chris is always in his room at six-thirty-five in the morning, seeing as Eddie banned him from coming in before six-thirty unless it was an emergency.

That's the life of a parent. The one time his kid sleeps in and he's too damn worried to enjoy it.

He stumbles out of bed, groaning at how tense he feels, and makes a pit stop at the bathroom before heading to the kitchen.

He startles when he sees a figure on his couch, then remembers - Buck stayed the night. He can only really see Buck's head from here, but his breathing is even and calm. Still sleeping.

Eddie rounds the corner a little more quietly.

His son is curled up on the couch with Buck, who's got one arm wrapped around him to stop Chris from falling off. They're both soundly asleep. Buck's hair is almost as askew as Christopher's, and the blanket is tugged mostly over his kid.

God, his heart might explode if he looks any closer. He never figured he'd find anyone who was as good with Chris as Buck is. And here they are, sleeping on the couch together.

He goes to the kitchen and starts breakfast - eggs and pancakes, bacon, because he feels good about how he woke up and that Buck didn't have nightmares. That they're both okay. Chris has been stressed with Shannon around, they both have.

He's finished the pancakes and moved onto the bacon when he hears shuffling, and turns around to find Buck standing in the kitchen with him, blinking blearily.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Eddie says.

"You made breakfast?" Buck asks hopefully.

"Sure did."

"Will you fake marry me?"

Eddie has to laugh. Buck's a goofball, and it's impossible to resist any of his charm and friendliness, especially when Eddie got to sleep in because of him.

Buck looks past him, then, out the window, and steps up close to him. Eddie's about to ask what he's doing when Buck takes his spatula, puts his hands on Eddie's waist, and leans down to kiss him.

Eddie's frozen for a moment, unsure of what's going on or what to do - Buck moved quickly - but his mouth takes over and soon he's kissing back, tasting the mint on Buck's lips from his toothpaste and feeling Buck's body crowd him closer to the counter.

Buck's a good kisser. Scratch that, Buck's a great kisser. Eddie's reaching up, his hands on Buck's neck, pulling him closer, feeling Buck's hands tighten on his hips, yanking a little at his t-shirt. Eddie's never kissed anyone bigger than him before - hell, he's never kissed another man before - and while it's strange, he can't say he hates it.

Buck pulls away from him, minutely, but only enough to fold them into a hug, with his face in Eddie's neck like it was last night. The height difference between them is negligible if Buck puts his head down.

"Your ex is outside," Buck whispers.

He strokes Buck's back, feels shivers erupt in his wake. "What?" he hisses.

"I just saw her. She's outside." Buck nestles in closer to him; even if it's not real, Eddie's touch-starved and hasn't been kissed by anyone in the last few years, unless you count his abuela, which he definitely doesn't. It's nice to be this close to someone again.

"What's she doing?" he whispers back.

"I don't know, I can't see her anymore." Buck's making a real show out of cuddling him, turning him into a teddy bear. "Ah, Eddie, that feels a bit not-fake."

Eddie's stroking his back still, finding the little space between Buck's t-shirt and his sweats and lingering there. "Sorry," he murmurs. "Want me to stop?"

"I, ah-"

"Daaaaad, that's gross," Chris's voice whines, and he and Buck separate.

Buck's face is flushed, eyes bright, his lips wet and a little red. He looks totally, completely flustered and totally, unfairly attractive. Eddie's finding it a little hard to breathe, and has to remind himself, for at least a few seconds, that this is fake. That Buck kissed him because Shannon was watching.

Buck licks his lips, and Eddie's eyes dart down to catch the movement.

"Dad," Christopher says. "I'm hungry."

"Sorry, bud," Eddie says. "You want some pancakes?"

~*~

Buck wasn't going to say no.

Buck's in Eddie's shower and Christopher is with abuela. Eddie is sitting on the couch, head flopped back, staring at the ceiling.

Eddie asked Buck if he wanted Eddie to stop touching him, and Buck wasn't going to say no. Buck said, "I, ah," instead, which is nowhere near being a no - maybe, at a stretch, it would've been a no Buck uttered because he thought he had to.

So Eddie has a new thing to add to his list of things he knows about Buck, alongside his loft apartment and long legs and birthmark. Buck likes having his lower back touched. Eddie knows that not many people probably know this information, and now he doesn't know what to do with it.

Buck's a great kisser, and he likes having his lower back touched, and even though he's taller than Eddie he seems to try and cram himself into Eddie's space and make himself smaller, and Eddie doesn't know what to do with any of that.

Eddie groans, rubs his face. Buck is naked in his shower. Buck kissed him. He tries to do the math in his head, but his head is back fifty minutes ago at the breakfast counter, replaying the sensation of Buck's skin twitching beneath his thumb.

Buck is naked in his shower. Buck is naked in his shower.

"Traitor," Eddie mutters, not missing the way his dick is way too interested in the idea of Buck, naked, shower. "You're straight."

Apparently not so much. Or maybe it's just been a while. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered whether it was Buck or someone else. Yeah, the time frame has to be it.

"Thanks, man," Buck's voice says, and Eddie tips his head back up apprehensively - if Buck's wearing a towel, he'll combust from sexual frustration.

Fortunately, Buck is fully dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel that hugs his arms. He looks a little sheepish, and Eddie realises this has to be as awkward for Buck as it is for him.

"Don't mention it," Eddie says easily. "Plans today?"

"No." Buck looks down, shrugs. "I'm not supposed to work but... I might go and see if I can help with the recovery effort for that firefighter."

"Buck," Eddie says softly. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Buck shakes his head. "I didn't even know his name," he says. "Doesn't make sense. I went in there twice on the upper levels. How come I'm okay and he's not?"

Eddie doesn't have the answers. He wonders the same thing, sometimes - wonders why his story continued on, winding out of Afghanistan and all the way back to L.A, when his friends closed their final chapters in the sand and the ash. He wonders almost every day, and nothing really makes it better for him.

He can try for Buck, though.

"I don't know," he says, and Buck looks up at him, blue eyes wet and endlessly sad. "I'm sorry, Buck. I wish I had a better answer for you."

Buck shrugs wordlessly. Eddie feels like he failed him.

"Let's go get something to eat," Eddie says, standing up. "We'll do something fun."

"Like what?" Buck's following him, though, and that's good.

"I don't know. What do you feel like?"

Buck considers. Then, "We could hit the gym? I have a guest pass, I can take people in for free off-peak."

Something healthy, and Eddie really does miss the gym. "Alright. I'm in."


	4. Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah the only reason you guys are getting these chapters so quick is because i'm actually writing it really fast and i've already got chapters 5-8 done so i'm comfy fucking up my own schedule
> 
> also i really apologise for not getting back to comments, but i read every single one and they make me smile and i really want to when i have time off!

They are, apparently, not going to talk about the kiss. Or the fact that both of them enjoyed it.

Buck doesn't bring it up, and Eddie doesn't bring it up. Eddie is still quietly conflicted over how much he enjoyed it, and is very much considering trying to get laid just to verify that he doesn't need to have a crisis over his sexuality at near-thirty-three.

Which has lead him to this.

He's in a random woman's living room and they're just at that point where things are going to go further. Buck is watching Christopher for him. His fake boyfriend is watching his son without getting paid while Eddie goes off and discreetly tries to screw someone else.

He tries not to think back on how hurt Buck had looked, for all of a second, before he quickly schooled his features into something marginally excited for Eddie. Even then, Buck had been noticeably quieter in the days leading up to the date, and Eddie doesn't know what to make of that. Maybe he felt like he couldn't say no to babysitting.

Maybe Eddie's reading into it.

He is, blessedly, interrupted in his mission to stop the woman from manipulating his hands around her throat - he really isn't into the choking thing - when his phone rings.

"Sorry," he says, extricating himself with some difficulty. "It might be the sitter."

Buck's name flashes up on his phone, and he answers straight away. "Hello?" he asks, trying to find his shirt - and his jeans.

"You need to come home," Buck says.

"What? Why?"

"Shannon's here." Buck sounds tense and worried. "Chris is upset. I can't get her to leave."

Eddie's heart drops through his stomach. "Okay, I'm coming back," he says. "Just hang in there."

The call drops, and Eddie bundles himself back into his clothes, leaving his date standing in her living room in her underwear. "Where are you going?" she asks. "We were just-"

"I'm sorry," Eddie interrupts. "It's urgent. My son needs me."

"You have a kid?!"

Oh, right. He hadn't told her that. It had gotten lost somewhere between her last glass of wine and his tongue in her mouth.

"I'll call you," he says, fully aware that he won't call her.

"Bye," she mutters, slumping onto the couch.

~*~

Sure enough, Shannon's car is parked in front of Eddie's house when he gets there.

Buck, for his part, is looking like he wants to run. He's standing just inside the front door and looks completely panicked by the time Eddie has vaulted the steps three at a time.

"I'm sorry, Eddie, she just-"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Eddie demands.

Shannon whirls. "I came to see my son," she snaps. "Only your boyfriend here won't let me past him."

Eddie makes a note to thank Buck later. "Shannon, it's eight PM," he says. "It's Sunday night. Chris has school tomorrow - he's supposed to be asleep. If you wanted to see him, you could call and arrange a time-"

"I shouldn't have to arrange a time to see my own son!" she spits. "And I shouldn't have to go through some dumb blonde to get to him!"

"Buck isn't dumb," Eddie says calmly. He steps closer - and catches a whiff of her breath. "Shannon, are you drunk?"

"I only had a few glasses of wine."

Buck is watching them both, wide-eyed and silent. Not for the first time, Eddie thinks that he's thrown Buck to the wolves - but this is the first time he's felt like Buck might be thinking the same thing. He couldn't have known Shannon would turn up, or that she'd been drinking, but...

"You drove here?" he asks.

"I got an Uber, I'm not stupid enough to drink and drive."

"Okay, then you can get an Uber home. I'll order you one. It's a school night, Shannon. This isn't appropriate at all-"

"I just want to see my son!" she begs, which pulls Eddie up short. When she's like this - when she's crying, and unhappy, it reminds him of when she left, and how we would have done anything to make her stay. His hands almost itch, now, to pull her close and tell her it's alright - that he'll take her back, everything is forgiven.

But even though Shannon is the one who cut the rope holding their little family together, Eddie is the one who started fraying it in the first place.

As if sensing weakness, Shannon steps closer to him, eyes huge and wet. "Eddie, I want to see my son," she whispers. "And I want to see you, I want us all to be back together..."

How long did he long for that? Dream of it? Wish more than anything that it was a reality? How many times did he have to try and answer Christopher, when Christopher asked when his mom would be coming home?

She left once, Eddie thinks grimly. She can do it again. He can't let Shannon - or anyone - just waltz in and out of Christopher's life as they want to; it'll ruin his brilliant, sensitive kid, he knows it will.

He puts his hands on her arms, takes a step back from her. Her eyes are wet, and he determinedly doesn't look, stares at a freckle on her right shoulder like it can give him the willpower to tell her to move on.

"You need to go," he says quietly. "Please."

"I know you don't love him."

Her voice shakes, but she says it with conviction. Eddie stalls out - how could she possibly know that this thing with Buck is fake? They've been so careful about building it up, making it seem real - making it all legit-

"What?" he hears himself ask.

"I know you don't love him." She wipes at her eyes with her thumbs; the bottom row of her eyelashes smears black onto her skin anyway. "Because you walked in the door and you didn't even look at him once. You looked at me."

Fuck, she's right, which - even as a friend, Eddie should have at least stopped to make sure Buck was alright, considering how freaked out he looked over the whole situation.

"I thought so," she says, and walks out the door. "I'll call my own Uber. And you, tomorrow."

The door slams. Eddie turns, seeing Buck, who's pressed himself into the corner with his hands behind his back, looking like he's going to bolt at any second now.

"Buck-"

"Go check on Chris."

Buck's not meeting his eyes. His head is down. Eddie can see him chewing on his lip. He wants to protest, but every part of him needs to see his son right now. His son, who he's doing all this for.

He knocks on the door to Christopher's room, then opens it. Chris is sitting on his bed, cuddling a stuffed animal and looking totally, completely distressed. He's been crying.

"Oh, mijo," Eddie sighs, sinking down on the bed and pulling Christopher into his lap. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"You can't go back to Mommy," Chris sobs, breaking Eddie's heart. "Buck is your boyfriend. If you kiss Mommy it'll hurt his feelings."

Too late for that, Eddie thinks, his gut sinking as he remembers the expression on Buck's face when he'd entered, or the tight, anxious tone of voice he'd had on the phone. He might not be that in touch with himself, but he does know that Buck's feelings are already very much hurt.

"I'm not gonna kiss Mommy," Eddie reassures him.

Christopher sniffles. "Why does she come around?"

"She wants to see you."

"I don't want to see her!"

"I know you don't, mijo," Eddie says, his voice breaking. "I know you don't. I don't want to make you. You know that, right?"

"Yes," Christopher says, muffled, into Eddie's shirt. "She was mean to Buck. Buck's nice. Why would she be mean to him?"

God, Eddie doesn't know how to explain this. Chris is seven, and he's a smart, sensitive kid underneath all the cheer and his rambunctious nature, and Eddie wants to nurture it and stamp it out of him at the same time, so that it doesn't hurt him later. So that he'll be prepared, so that it can't be used against him.

"She was mean to Buck, huh?" Eddie murmurs, stroking Chris's hair. "Did that make you sad?"

"Yeah." Chris wipes his eyes. "She told him he was just candy and that you'd get sick of him. But you won't, right Dad?" Chris's voice wobbles. "I don't want Buck to go."

"I'm not sick of Buck," Eddie reassures Christopher, cursing Shannon to hell and back and himself, for even being slightly swayed by her stunt earlier.

"Where is he?" Christopher asks tearfully.

"Are you okay if I go find him?"

Chris nods, and Eddie places a kiss in his hair before getting up. He heads back out to the living area, where Buck has relocated to the corner of the kitchen, his shoulders hunched and his head down.

"Hey," Eddie says, and Buck jumps about a foot in the air. Something slips, and he hisses. One of the smaller kitchen knives clatters to the counter.

"Sorry," Eddie says, alarmed, as Buck cradles his hand. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine." Buck doesn't sound fine, but Eddie doesn't know whether to chalk it up to the cut on his finger or the entire situation.

"Here." Eddie grabs some paper towel. "Dios, Buck, that's - that's really gushing blood."

It's bright red, too, leaks quickly through the towels as Buck helplessly tries to put more pressure on it. Eddie takes over, folds his hands around Buck's and raises it to the ceiling in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Rivulets of blood start running down Buck's wrist.

"Maldito infierno," Eddie swears. "Buck, Dios, how do I get this to stop?"

Buck pulls his hand away, which is the first time he's ever rejected any physical contact Eddie's offered him. He doesn't say anything, just wads the paper towels a little better and runs the sink, sticks his hand under it to clean his wrist.

"I've got it," he says quietly.

"You really don't got it-"

"Bucky?"

Both men round on Christopher, who's evidently decided they're taking too long and has come to look for them. He takes in the sight of Buck's hand, wide eyed.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"It's okay, buddy," Buck says, somehow making it sound like it really is. "I just cut myself, that's all."

"It looks bad," Chris whimpers. Blood doesn't normally bother his kid - but it's been a long, rough night for him, by the sounds of it, and he's at the end of his rope.

"Oh, no, pal." Buck sinks down on his knees to the floor, and Christopher goes to him immediately, sinks into Buck's hug. "I'm on special medicine. And sometimes when I get hurt, I bleed more. But I'm okay, I promise."

Chris looks downright doubtful. "You promise?"

"I promise."

"But it looks bad."

"You know what would make it better?" Buck asks seriously.

Christopher sniffles. "What?"

"If you put a bandaid on it for me. That would make it all better."

Those seem to be the magic words; Chris brightens a little. "I'll go find you a bandaid," he says, and turns to head towards the bathroom. Eddie rubs his face tiredly as Buck gets to his feet.

"I should go," Buck says. "I ruined your night. I'm sorry."

He looks like he expects Eddie to hit him, which is all kinds of fucked up. "Just... can I see your hand? Please?"

Buck hesitates, but he holds his hand out.

Eddie peels back the paper towel over the sink, wincing at how wet they are. The cut to Buck's finger really is superficial, but blood thinners would make it bleed more, he guesses. It seems to have slowed at least a little.

"You didn't ruin my night," he says quietly.

Buck is silent. They're pressed shoulder to shoulder at the countertop, where there's a sheet of sugar cookies, baked, that seem to be cooling. Buck must have been using the knife to separate them out, instead of the spatula.

"You made these?"

"Chris wanted to surprise you. He said they're your favourite."

"They are." Eddie looks up; Buck's eyes are still down at the countertop, and he's still in Eddie's grasp. "Buck, hey. Look at me."

Buck finally meets his eyes.

"You didn't screw anything up," Eddie says. "I promise, okay? I'm sorry I put you in this situation in the first place. It's a lot to deal with."

"I shouldn't have let her in..."

"Sounds like you didn't have much of a choice."

"Christopher was so upset, Eddie, I-"

"He's a kid, Buck. He bounces back so fast you won't even know anything happened tomorrow. None of this was your fault, okay?" He rubs his face. "I need to be firmer with her," she mutters. "She can't keep doing this and getting away with it. I'm sorry for what she said to you."

Buck looks uncomfortable. "Um, what?"

"Chris told me she was mean to you." Eddie feels a smile ghost his lips as he repeats what his kid said - sometimes, it's hard for him to switch back to adult-talk. "That I'd get sick of you?"

"Oh." Buck's shoulders twitch like he wants to roll them, except Eddie's still got his hand under the tap. "It's fine."

"It's not fine." Eddie hesitates. "You know I won't, right? Get sick of you?"

Buck looks up at him through his lashes, nervous, his face a little sad and a little disbelieving and a little hopeful, and Eddie thinks, oh. Buck _didn't_ know that.

"I won't get sick of you," Eddie repeats. "Okay?"

Buck lowers his eyes and nods. He looks like he needs a hug, so that's what Eddie does, reaches over and pulls Buck in and holds him quietly. He doesn't say anything, but he can feel Buck sink into him gratefully and knows he made the right call.

"I got the bandaid!" Chris's voice crows.

"Awesome work, buddy," Eddie says, high fiving his kid. "We'll make Buck better in no time."

"We're a team," Chris agrees cheerfully.

Buck's started to look like Buck again and less like a kicked puppy, and he gets down on the floor so Chris can put the bandaid over his (thankfully no longer bleeding) finger. Chris carefully applies the plaster - which has Luke Skywalker on it - and then smiles up at Buck.

"I fixed it!"

"You sure did," Buck says, sweeping Christopher into a hug.

Christopher leans into him, and Eddie steps back a little, happy to let them have their moment. "I'm sorry Mommy was mean to you," Christopher mumbles into Buck's shoulder. "Dad says when people are mean it's because they're hurt."

"Your dad's right." Buck pulls away a little. "But I get the Christopher Diaz Hug Special, and that makes it feel better."

Eddie notes the way Buck doesn't say it's alright. He wonders if it's deliberate - if Buck refuses to say it's alright so that Chris knows it's not okay to hurt people just because you're upset. It's something Eddie would do, carefully rephrase it so that he doesn't even let the idea settle in Chris's head.

But he's a parent. Maybe he should stop applying his own thinking patterns to Buck.

"Alright," Eddie says. "I think it's time you went to bed, kiddo. Say goodnight to Buck."

"Goodnight, Buck," Christopher says, cuddling close to Buck again.

"Goodnight, Chris." Buck's smiling, which is nice to see. He still looks a little fragile around the edges, but it's nothing Eddie's seven year old will notice. It's an adult kind of tension.

He puts Christopher to bed and heads back to the kitchen. Buck is disposing of the bloody towels carefully, cleaning up a little.

"So," he says, "you can um... probably go back to your date."

Eddie shakes his head. He's well past the date and wanting to go back there. The damage is done, he knows - he won't be seeing her again.

"I don't think I'll be going back to my date," he says ruefully.

"How come?"

"Well... it wasn't going that well anyway, truthfully."

There's a pause. Then, "You smell like her."

Eddie winces. Buck says it quietly, and without judgment, but somehow it still stings a little. He knows he does, feels inexplicably guilty about it - this is fake, Buck isn't his boyfriend and he knew that Eddie was going out on a date...

But Eddie still feels bad. Because while their relationship might be fake, the hurt still lingering in Buck's eyes isn't, and neither is what he had to put up with when Shannon turned up. All of that is very much real. Dios, Buck is copping all the crap parts of it without getting any of the benefit. Why would he do this to himself?

"It's alright," Eddie says. Buck looks like he's ready to bolt as soon as he's allowed, and as much as Eddie would like him to stay - soothe some of the worry he seems to be feeling - he doesn't think that's what Buck wants right now. "I'm not gonna go back to my date. You can go."

That has the exact opposite effect Eddie was after, and results instead on Buck's expression becoming a little more wounded. "Okay," he says, "I think I left my keys in the living room-"

Oh fuck, Eddie realises blankly. He doesn't know what just happened, only that he somehow made it worse, and now Buck is scooping up his wallet and keys and leaving the house as quickly as he can.

"Buck-" Eddie tries.

"I hope you had a good night," Buck says, and he tries to smile before hightailing it out the door, leaving Eddie standing in the hallway.

Double fuck.

~*~

Eddie was at least eighty percent sure he'd done something wrong, but Buck's radio silence over the next two days settles it.

He tries texting Buck a few times - and while Buck replies, it's later than it usually would be and his Snapchats have stopped too. He doesn't initiate conversation. Eddie's unsure of what happened, and he's not willing to talk about something like this over the phone.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, buddy?" He continues cutting Christopher's food up.

"How come Buck hasn't come over?"

Eddie puts Chris's plate back in front of him and sits down. "Truthfully, buddy," he admits, "I think Buck was still a bit sad over what Mommy said, and I think I might have hurt his feelings."

"You hurt his feelings?" There's no judgment in Chris's tone, but Eddie's always hated the feeling that he's falling from the pedestal his kid has put him on. Still, he's trying to teach Chris to own it when he's in the wrong - to admit it.

"Yeah. I think so."

Christopher picks up a bit of carrot with his hand, eats it, and then says, "If you hurt Buck's feelings you should just say sorry. Then he won't be sad anymore."

It really is that easy in Chris's world, except Buck hasn't been answering the phone when Eddie calls, and his excuses as to why not are vague "I was working" messages.

Chris brightens suddenly. "You could take him cookies!"

They still have some left - Eddie hasn't finished them, and neither has Christopher, which is weird for both of them, all things considered. Sugar cookies are their favourites, but Eddie feels almost guilty for eating them.

Chris must take his silence for hesitance, because he persists, "I love cookies and you love cookies, so why wouldn't Buck love cookies?"

Eddie can't imagine Buck not loving many things. The man throws ninety percent of his off-duty energy into loving people and being lovable.

"You're right, mijo," he says, and Christopher grins. "I'll take him some cookies."

~*~

He goes to Buck's apartment first, but Buck doesn't answer the door, and Eddie can't hear the TV or any sound from within, so he takes a stab in the dark and heads to the 118.

When he arrives, the morning shift has just finished their cleanup. Hen is emptying a bucket of soapy water out over the pavement when Eddie arrives.

"Hey, Loverboy," she says - Eddie will never get used to that. "Haven't seen you around here for a while."

While her tone is light, her voice has an underlying, calculating tone. She knows something's up. God, has Buck been moping? Eddie really hopes not.

"Busy with work and Christopher," he says. "Is Buck here?"

"Eddie?"

Buck is here, and he's climbing out of the firetruck nearest to him slowly. Eddie vaguely registers Hen making a stealthy exit - Buck is wearing a crisply pressed, short-sleeved uniform shirt and his slacks, neither of which leave anything to the imagination. He's clean-shaven and his hair is styled, very much giving the impression that he's got his shit together.

He also looks tired, and a little nervous to see Eddie in his workplace. Eddie suddenly thinks that maybe just because Christopher thinks it's a great idea to surprise Buck at home or at work, maybe it isn't.

"Hey," Eddie says, wiping his hands on his thighs.

Buck looks like a deer in the headlights, which is impressive for someone as tall as him. "Hi," he replies.

"Sorry to bug you at work," Eddie says. "I went by your place and you weren't there."

Buck nods slowly, and Eddie realises he still hasn't talked about why he's here yet. The firehouse is quiet now, but that could change at any time. He's not even sure how long Buck has been awake, if maybe this should be left to another day.

But if he doesn't do this, he'll chicken out. And abuela will tell him off for hurting his sweet boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says. "For the other night - how I acted. It... wasn't appropriate of me to go out, and leave you with Chris." He's not sure who's listening, but Buck's face softens in understanding; he steps forward, mouth open. "Wait. I'm not done."

Buck's mouth clicks shut, and he's back to looking like he'll be struck.

"And I'm sorry, too, for how I reacted when I got home," Eddie says. "I totally sidelined you and your feelings even though you... even though I think you needed more from me, then. You seem afraid of - me, or something about me, and I don't want you to have to be scared of me. Of any of it. So I wanted to apologise for it, and ask if maybe we could pretend it didn't happen."

Buck blinks. "So... you're not angry at me?"

That's why Buck's been avoiding his calls and messages? He thought Eddie was angry with him?

"No?" Eddie says hesitantly.

Buck brightens immeasurably. "Oh."

"Why would I-"

"What's in the container?" Buck asks, an odd combination of curious and evasive.

Eddie lifts the tupperware he's holding. "You left so quickly the other night you didn't get any cookies," he says. "I brought you some."

"You saved me cookies?" Buck has no right to sound so pleased at that. Any tension he was holding has left him, and he's back to looking bouncy and generally just happy to be alive.

"Yeah." Dios, why is Eddie blushing?

"Cool." Buck grins. "You wanna come sit down with me? I was about to go on a break."

This feels more like they're back to normal, with Buck's sunny disposition firmly in place and the smile with it. Even as they sit down, Eddie can't believe it was that easy - he showed up, apologised, clarified that he's not angry, and Buck just... accepted it. Readily.

Is that what things are supposed to be like?

They sit down on the couch upstairs, in front of the TV, which is switched off. Eddie cracks open the container, unable to contain his laughter when Buck's going for the cookies before the lid is totally off.

"Hungry?" he teases.

"I never get to eat while we're working," Buck complains.

"Heeey, if it isn't Mr. Diaz himself!" Chim's hands clap down on Eddie's shoulders. "Still putting up with our Buckaroo, huh?"

"He's putting up with me," Eddie says, noticing the flicker of apprehension on Buck's face. "Only because I brought him food, but..."

"The only way to his heart," Hen teases. "Nice to see you back here, Eddie." She's looking at him approvingly - obviously, Hen had noticed something was up with Buck, and that Eddie has fixed it.

"Nice to be back." He means it - they're a little family here, and they've welcomed him into it unquestioningly, just because Buck brought him along and asked them to. He's never really felt this level of acceptance before.

"Thanks for coming," Buck says, when Chim and Hen have more or less left. "I uh, I'm sorry I've been..."

"It's alright," Eddie says, desperate to move past the awkward apologies. "I get it. You don't owe us anything."

Buck opens his mouth like he's about to argue, but as he does, the alarm sounds, and everyone springs into action all around him - people are running down stairs and the fire pole, the trucks are roaring to life, and there are uniforms being divested and changed out.

Eddie can feel the adrenaline, and he's not even involved. He heads downstairs as Buck comes flying out of the change room, in his full black and yellow fire outfit.

"Sorry," he pants. "Gotta go."

With that, he leans over, grabs Eddie's waist with one hand, and pulls him close enough to kiss his cheek.

"I'll text you!" he yells as he climbs up into the cabin of the truck.

"Later, loverboy," Chim says, and Hen cackles gleefully. Eddie's left standing there, in the empty firehouse, with the sensation of Buck's lips touching his cheek replaying over and over in his mind.

If he didn't know better, he'd say that Buck didn't do that on purpose.

~*~

He's at work when his phone pings.

He slides out from underneath his current car, unlocks his phone, and grins when he sees it's a Snapchat notification - from Buck, whose username populates as _lasfinest_ , followed by a grinning devil emoji and a fire emoji (which, okay, is only marginally better than itsbuckarootoyou).

He opens the picture. It's Buck, sooty and dishevelled in the back of the truck, pulling a face and staring judgmentally into the camera.

_high from the fumes of the crop house we just extinguished #someonesgettingfired_

Eddie laughs and takes a screenshot, which seems to grab Buck's attention - he starts typing a message.

_lasfinest_ : can't resist my pretty face huh

Eddie sends the eyerolling emoji and nothing else.

~*~

He picks Buck up from work at six for their weekly "date night".

He's waiting when the 118 rolls back into the firehouse, and when Buck gets out of the cabin - looking slightly less sooty and happy to be done for the day - he seems surprised to see Eddie.

"Look at that _pretty face_ ," Eddie coos - mocks, really. He can give as good as he gets. No one joins the military without being able to give a good ribbing when it comes down to it.

The slow, shy smile that passes over Buck's face can only be described as adorable, and Hen gushes, "Oh, you made him _blush_!" Which prompts all the rest of the firefighters to start teasing Buck. Buck - who is apparently only brave in the face of fires - hides in the locker room until he's sure they've all dispersed.

He's clean when he comes out, still looking happy. "Are they gone?" he asks.

"Mostly," Eddie says. "Your place?"

"Be safe, Buckaroo!" Chimney calls, and Buck blushes right up to his hairline, except this time Eddie joins him.

Buck's place is a bachelor pad, there's no two ways around it. He's got more gaming consoles than he does people in there, a huge TV, a king-sized bed in the loft upstairs, and colour-changing LED strip lights around the edges of the living room.

Christopher would love it here.

"Beer?" Buck asks.

"Sure."

Buck grabs two bottles out of the fridge and cracks them open effortlessly. He's worked another sixteen hour shift and has to be tired, but he's made time for Eddie, even after everything with Shannon.

"So," Buck says. "I was thinking, with what happened last week, we should step it up. I'm talking the big F.O here, Eds."

"The big F.O?"

"Facebook Official," Buck says seriously.

Eddie snorts his beer.

"What?" Buck demands as Eddie coughs. "Everyone knows it's the pinnacle of millennial dating, to change your Facebook status to in a relationship! Well, apart from marriage."

"You do realise I'm not a millennial?" Eddie asks, belatedly realising why so many of Buck's behaviours make sudden contextual sense. Eddie sometimes forget that his fake boyfriend is twenty six.

"You're not?" Buck blinks.

"No. I'm a bit beyond that."

"Oh, God, are you like... I don't even know what comes before millennial. Are you a boomer?"

"Do I look that old?" Eddie asks dryly.

"Well, no! But you're half Mexican so maybe you just don't age!"

"I'm gonna take that as the compliment I think it was meant to be and change my relationship status," Eddie says. "Which means I can also put this screenshot from your Snapchat up."

"The crop house one?"

"Yeah. It made me laugh."

Buck looks way too pleased with himself. Eddie thinks that if he even implied that Buck getting hit by a car would make him happy, Buck would probably do it.

They relax for the night. They ignore the comments piling up on their respective Facebook pages, and by the time Eddie goes to leave, Buck is looking sleepy and happy and like he's forgotten that they were ever at a weird point in their relationship.

"I'm gonna head off," Eddie yawns. "Gotta tuck Christopher in."

Buck stands up. "You should bring him next time."

Eddie doesn't think he'll ever get over how grateful he is for Buck's support and genuine liking of his son. "Yeah. I think he'd have fun. He'll be outnumbered by gaming consoles, so that's a good start."

"Ha ha," Buck says, but he's smiling.

They stand at the door. Buck's still holding his beer bottle.

"Night, Eddie," he says, quietly, and leans forward to wrap Eddie in one of his full-bodied hugs.

It could end here. Things seem normal enough. But there's something still nagging at the back of Eddie's mind, about how tense Buck has seemed for the last few days, after Shannon. About how he essentially ran away.

"Wait," Eddie sighs. "I... have something I wanted to talk to you about."

Buck's face arrests. "Yeah?" he asks nervously.

"The other night," Eddie says. "Shannon. You've been sort of... avoiding me?"

"I answered all your texts," Buck says evasively.

"Yeah, but not like you," Eddie says. "And you haven't answered phone calls, either. Look, man, you're not obligated to talk to me, but-"

"Things are fine now," Buck says, a pleading note in his tone.

"Buck, you couldn't get out of there fast enough," Eddie says, exasperated. "If you don't want to do this-"

"I thought you were sending me away," Buck says. "I thought you wanted me to go."

Eddie takes a moment to process that, allowing himself to stare at Buck and take in the oddly vulnerable expression on his face. He remembers saying, "It's okay, you can go" and - well, after the night Buck had had, and the weirdness between them, maybe that did sound like a dismissal. Like Eddie wanted him gone.

"I was just trying to give you space," Buck says. "I thought you wanted me to go, so I didn't message you, and then I didn't know what to say when you started texting me so I just..."

He looks down and shrugs guiltily.

"Didn't say anything," Eddie realises aloud. He's been in that position himself, plenty of times. "I only... I said that so you knew you could go, if you wanted to, because you looked spooked. Did..."

Buck looks up at him. There's something in his eyes that gives Eddie the courage to continue, bolstered by the good time they'd had today in the firehouse, and after.

"Did you want to stay?" Eddie asks.

Buck nods, shoulders slumping like he's relieved Eddie worked it out so he didn't have to say it. Eddie smiles, a burden off his shoulders now that he knows it was a misunderstanding and nothing more.

"You only had to ask, Buck," he says gently, putting a hand on Buck's shoulder.

"I'm not good at asking for things," Buck admits.

"How about you work on asking things, and I'll work on offering so you don't have to?"

Buck smiles. "Okay."

"Okay." Eddie pulls him into another hug. "Goodnight for real, Buck."

"Night, Eddie."


	5. Eddie Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mostly just really want to get to chapter 6 cuz i think you guys will love it
> 
> THANK YOU for all the comments and if you've left me a request i'll be getting it done this week or at least aiming to, i still have 5 night shifts left!

"Eddie, I think your ex wife is stalking me."

Eddie raises his eyebrows, wiping his hands on a rag as he reaches for his toolbox. "Join the club, we come with membership pins," he says. "Also, why aren't you asleep?"

"I'm not really worried about sleep when my fake boyfriend's ex-wife is making fake Instagram accounts to low-key stalk me!" Buck hisses into the phone.

"Oookay," Eddie says slowly. "Why are you whispering?"

"I just feel like whispering is the most appropriate option right now," Buck says defensively, but returns to his normal pitch. "Eddie, your ex wife is stalking me!"

"I mean," Eddie says, wincing, "I... did kind of warn you this might happen, Buck. The whole "my ex wife won't take no for an answer" is sort of the entire reason I hired a fake boyfriend in the first place."

Buck makes a noise that sounds sort of like what Eddie imagines a verbalised keyboard smash would. "Seriously," he says softly, "why aren't you asleep, Buck?"

He knows for a fact that Buck is only just coming off four night shifts, two of them fourteen hours and two of them sixteen hours. He's seen how tired Buck is after said shifts. So what he's having trouble understanding is this - why the hell is Buck even awake?

There's a long pause on the other end of the line. "No reason," Buck says uncomfortably.

Eddie sighs. "Este tonto piensa que soy estúpido," he mutters.

"Hey," Buck whines. "I heard that."

"You were supposed to," Eddie laughs, "but I wasn't actually calling you stupid."

"Really?" Buck asks suspiciously.

"No." Eddie puts his lug wrench down and sighs, wiping his forehead. "So tell me," he says, "why can't you sleep?"

"I didn't say I couldn't."

"You didn't have to. You wouldn't tell me why you weren't, so I assumed." Eddie stares at the sky out of the garage, which has only just faded from bloodshot red and pink to a light blue. He's already been at the shop for five hours - the sooner he gets the work done, the sooner he can leave, and there's always work at home. His boss is flexible, which is one of the only reasons Eddie is willing to drive this far.

"Buck," he prompts softly, when Buck fails to answer him.

"It's dumb," Buck mumbles.

"If it's stopping you from sleeping after night shift I bet it's not," Eddie muses.

Buck sighs. "I hurt my shoulder on one of our calls," he says. "It's not bad, didn't even need a hospital, it's just sore enough to make it hard to sleep."

Eddie nods like his heart didn't just tick up hearing that Buck had been injured. "Okay," he says. "You got anything for it?"

"No," Buck says miserably.

Eddie nods, considers. "I might have something at home that can help," he says. "You okay if I bring it over?"

Pause. "You don't have to," Buck mumbles, and Eddie rolls his eyes at how much Buck's tone screams "I desperately want you to come over and fix it".

"Well, what if I want to? For my own peace of mind?"

"Aren't you working?"

"I can finish up in half an hour. Sound good?"

"Yeah." Now, he can hear Buck smiling, sees the way it'll lift his eyes until part of his birthmark disappears. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

"Alright." Eddie drops his towel. "And you can tell me all about Shannon stalking you."

~*~

Buck opens the door straight away when he arrives.

He's had a shower, that much is obvious, because his hair - which is usually gelled down and back so he looks respectable for work - is beginning to curl over his forehead. He looks sleepy, wearing a white t-shirt that's a little too big and grey sweats.

"Hi," he says.

Eddie holds up the bag he brought awkwardly. "Drugs," he says.

"I love drugs. Let's go inside before my neighbour thinks I'm trafficking again, though."

"Again?" Eddie asks, mystified. He assesses Buck as they retreat and close the door - he's not limping or hunched, but he is favouring his left arm and keeping it close to his body, so Eddie's guessing whatever injury he received is localised to that area.

"Every time I get Uber Eats Mrs. Jackson from down the hall thinks I'm having drugs delivered," Buck explains, leading the way into the apartment. "Probably because it comes in brown paper bags."

Eddie smiles a little. "Mrs. Jackson sounds like she's seen some shit," he says.

Buck laughs, then winces a little and attempts to roll his shoulder. "That it?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah. Like I said, I didn't go to hospital or anything. Hen checked me out, said I probably pulled something." Buck's started to tint red in his cheeks and ears. "I'm probably just being a baby."

"Can I see?"

"Um, yeah." Buck wipes his hands on his thighs. "Where do you want me to...?"

"Couch," Eddie says.

Buck sits down, one leg planted on the floor and the other folded beneath him. He's flexible, Eddie can already see that from the way he's sitting, which shouldn't make him want to test just how flexible Buck can be.

"Shirt off," he says.

Buck doesn't hesitate. He pulls his shirt off, sits quietly with his back to Eddie, and waits.

He's bruising up, Eddie muses, but it doesn't look serious. He manipulates the joint a little, letting his fingers dig into the vulnerable skin and sinew just under Buck's left scapula, where the bone ends and gives way to something a little softer.

Buck's skin is smooth here, soft. He feels a little tense, but he begins to relax as Eddie works.

"How's it look?" he asks. "Will I live, Doc?"

"Funny," Eddie deadpans. "Anywhere else hurt?"

"Um, go up?"

Eddie moves his way upwards and gets the fright of his life when he reaches Buck's upper shoulder, near his neck, and Buck outright yelps. "Sorry," he says, putting his free hand on Buck's other shoulder to steady him. "I'm sorry."

"There," Buck says, sounding as startled as Eddie feels.

"Okay," Eddie says, and rubs Buck's shoulders gently, apologetically. He does feel bad for hurting Buck, even if he didn't mean to, even if Buck told him to move that far up.

Buck sighs. He's relaxing again.

"You don't have pain meds?" Eddie asks, reaching for the bag nearby.

"I have aspirin," Buck says. "But I can't take those."

"Blood thinners," Eddie says sagely, more focussed on getting out his various spoils from his quick trip to the chemist's. "I remember." He fishes out a bottle of Tylenol. "Here," he says. "Got you these. They're safe for blood thinners."

"Thanks." Buck swallows two of them dry. He's leaning on the couch, seeming content enough to let Eddie manipulate his shoulder and neck as he needs to. "What's that?"

"It's topical tylenol," Eddie says. "I wanted to get you Aspercreme, but that can't be used with blood thinners." He pops the lid off. "It should take the edge off enough for you to sleep," he says.

They're quiet for a while; Eddie begins rubbing the gel in slowly, doubling up and turning the experience into a massage as well. Finally, he says, "So. Blood thinners."

Buck nods. "I got hurt," he says. "Then I had a pulmonary embolism because I pushed myself too hard to get back to work. So... blood thinners. Might not be permanent, but... it could be. I don't know."

His voice has gone all soft and blurred at the edges, and Eddie realises, with a surge of relief, that the topical tylenol is doing its job and easing Buck's pain.

"Pulmonary embolism, huh?" Eddie asks. "You're twenty six. You shouldn't have a pulmonary anything."

"I know," Buck sighs.

Eddie doesn't want to push for details. It must have been a serious injury that Buck was sidelined, then had to fight so hard to get back on track. "How's that feeling?" he asks.

"So good," Buck sighs.

"I'm gonna get some on the front of your shoulder, too," Eddie says.

"Hmm, okay."

He switches around, has to prop Buck up a little bit, and begins rubbing the cream into the junction of Buck's neck and shoulder. Buck's eyes have the same soft, sleepy quality as his voice did, and he's beginning to pitch forward a little.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs.

"I'm tired," Buck yawns. "Sorry, man."

"Don't be sorry." Eddie keeps rubbing, determinedly not looking at Buck's broad chest. "Just close your eyes."

Buck doesn't argue with him, which is a testament to how exhausted he must really be. His eyes slip closed, and Eddie is so focussed on not looking at Buck's chest and stomach that he doesn't notice they don't open again.

Buck pitches forward a little. His head lands on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie continues to massage gently, mostly because it's soothing, now, and not because there's any cream left to apply to the bruises.

"Okay, done," he says.

Buck doesn't move. His breath is hot against Eddie's neck and collarbone, and Eddie realises he's sitting on the couch with Buck asleep on him.

Eddie sighs, putting a hand on the back of Buck's neck and letting his own eyes close. It's been an early morning, packing Chris up so that abuela can pick him up after school for a sleepover, then getting to work, then coming straight to Buck's. He's tired. He's been tired for a long time, with no reprieve in sight.

But he's in Buck's apartment now, with its soundproofed walls and total quiet, the only sound being Buck's slow, even breathing against him, and his body is screaming for rest.

His tired, sleep-deprived mind makes a decision that from this point on, anything he does can be plausibly passed off with a shrug. "Okay," he murmurs to Buck, "I got you, cariño."

Buck mumbles something incoherent, and Eddie guides them both down, where Buck can sleep stretched out against Eddie's chest and Eddie can lean back into the couch. He'll only take a nap, he promises himself, maybe half an hour before he tries to get Buck up and into a normal bed, where it will be less painful for both of them. Buck's couch isn't made for two grown men to sleep on.

"Half an hour," he mumbles, and he's out.

~*~

When he wakes, it's darker, and he's still on the couch.

For a moment, he panics. He almost moves, except he feels Buck's weight on him and suddenly registers - couch. Giving Buck a massage, trying to relieve his pain enough for him to sleep. Tugging Buck down on top of him.

Chris is staying the night at his abuela's. There's nothing to panic about, apart from the fact that he's got a six foot two firefighter lounging on him like a cat.

They're only not cold because Buck has tugged a throw rug down over the both of them. Buck hasn't stirred, and Eddie wonders what's woken him.

Then he hears a knock.

"Shit," he says, and eases out from underneath Buck's body quickly. He wonders if he should answer Buck's door for him, but whoever's knocking obviously knows he's here, and this is an apartment building - no door to door sales.

He hurries to the door - leaving Buck on the couch, under the blanket - and pulls it open.

The woman on the other side of the door has brown hair, large brown eyes, and full lips. She blinks confusedly.

"You aren't my brother," she accuses.

Eddie feels cold. Brother? Buck has a sister? A _territorial_ older sister by the looks of it, too - she's drawing herself up to her full height, which isn't much, but she's got enough presence to make Eddie want to hide.

"Where's Evan?" she demands.

It takes him a moment to even remember that Buck's real name is Evan. "He's sleeping," he says softly. "He just came off nights. I'm sorry-" He holds his hand out - "I'm Eddie."

Her eyes widen. "Oh my God," she says. "You're Eddie? The Eddie?"

"I uh... yeah?"

She ignores his hand and hugs him tightly, and he racks his brain for what could possibly be going on. "I'm so sorry," she gushes, "I'm just, Evan's my little brother and I'm a little... he's been hurt before and I didn't realise - but you're Eddie! It's so good to meet you!"

"It's good to meet you too." Now that he feels a little more like he knows what's going on, he can smile about it. She has the same energy as Buck does, which makes him comfortable with her almost right away. "Buck didn't tell me you were coming."

"Oh, he didn't know." She comes in and puts food down by the door. "You said he's asleep?"

"Yeah, he just got off night shift. He must really be tired, because-" Eddie cranes his head to look at the couch, "he hasn't moved."

She waves him off. "My brother could sleep through a tsunami," she says. "I'm Maddie, by the way. I brought him some groceries - he forgets when he's on night shift."

Eddie's glad someone is watching out for Buck. Even if that someone is currently eyeing him in the same way his own sisters do right before they settle in to torture him about his love life.

"So, Eddie Diaz," she says, "what are your intentions with my baby brother?"

"I uh," Eddie stammers, but she's starting to smile.

"Relax. Chimney already told me everything about you anyway."

"Chimney?"

"Oh, Buck didn't tell you? Chimney is my boyfriend. He said you seem very noble. "A total dark horse" were his words exactly."

Eddie is starting to get the impression that despite Buck being six foot two and nearly two hundred pounds of sheer muscle, Maddie is the Buckley sibling he really needs to be concerned about. Buck wouldn't hurt a fly, and he knows that - Maddie, on the other hand...

"So is my little brother being a gentleman?" she asks, raising her eyebrows as she continues to unpack groceries onto Buck's counter.

"Uh, yeah. He's great. Loves my kid, which is refreshing." He doesn't even have to lie about that - Buck does love Chris, and it is refreshing. "And my abuela loves him."

"He's met your abuela?" she asks, surprised.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Well, it's just... I don't wanna spook you, but he doesn't normally make it that far."

Eddie nods. If Buck spends most of his time in fake relationships, that would make sense, not that he's about to tell Maddie this isn't real.

There's a rustling sound on the couch. Buck rolls over, onto his back, and settles again with a sigh. He doesn't seem bothered by them talking at normal volume.

"He's really knocked out," Maddie observes. "I'm surprised he has anyone over after night shift."

"He hurt his shoulder during a call," Eddie informs her. "I came over with some rub-in cream for it."

"He got hurt?" Maddie looks upset. "Again?"

Eddie doesn't follow that train of conversation. If Buck's been hurt at work - and given that he's on blood thinners, Eddie suspects he has been - it's his business to tell, not Eddie's to pry out of a concerned older sister. "He's okay," he assures her. "Nothing broken or torn. I'm an ex army medic."

She relaxes - by about a hair. "Okay," she says uneasily. "Well... I was going to make us lunch, if you're interested?"

"I won't say no to food," Eddie grins, headed to the living area to wake Buck up.

The blanket is tucked up around his shoulders, and as Eddie approaches and sits, Buck rolls a little, onto his side, and tosses an arm around Eddie's waist, dragging him close. He's strong, Eddie muses, and he can't say he minds being turned into Buck's teddy bear.

He inches the blanket back off Buck's shoulder. The bruising looks worse than it did before, but the joint doesn't seem to be causing any pain. Buck's moved easily enough to grab him.

As Eddie readjusts the blanket - feeling uncharacteristically tender as he watches Buck breathe gently, eyelashes fanned against his cheeks and mouth slightly open - Buck stirs, his grip on Eddie's waist tightening.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Eddie says lightly.

Buck blinks his eyes open, turning his head to look at Eddie. "Oh," he mumbles. "Sorry, man."

He moves his arm, rolls onto his back, and blinks up at Eddie sleepily. His hip is pressed into Eddie's thigh. The couch isn't really big enough for two full-grown men.

"Thanks for coming over," he mumbles. "I know it's not super in the job description-"

And Eddie panics, because Maddie thinks this is real and Buck doesn't know she's here and is about to let the cat out of the bag with his sleepy rambling. He reaches out to stroke Buck's hair, which short-circuits whatever Buck's next words were going to be.

"Baby," Eddie says, quickly, and Buck's eyes widen a little. "Your sister is here."

He almost laughs at the "oh, crap" expression in Buck's eyes. He's guessing that Buck hasn't told Maddie this is fake either. They're the only people that know about it not being real.

"O-oh," Buck stammers, and Eddie bites down on his lip to stifle the grin. Buck looks absolutely panicked, and it shouldn't be funny. "I-"

Eddie reaches down and touches the bruising on Buck's shoulder. "How's this feel?" he asks, trying to distract him. He doesn't think Maddie can hear them, not with their voices this quiet, but he's sure she's watching them.

"It's, uh," Buck says. "It's okay."

There's movement in the kitchen. Maddie, coming closer, he thinks, and for some reason he starts to feel the same panic Buck seems to be experiencing, and Eddie leans down a little, scoops his hand under Buck's neck and presses his thumb to Buck's pulse. Buck's mouth is open, shocked, his cheeks bright pink and his eyes blinking furiously.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Eddie hears himself say.

"Yeah," Buck says, with so little hesitation Eddie's surprised by it.

He closes the distance, leans down and fits his mouth to Buck's, pulling Buck up by his neck. His grip is secure and Buck rolls with it, trusts Eddie to support him as he leans up on his good arm to deepen the kiss.

Dios, but Buck is a good kisser. Eddie can feel heat pooling in his belly, making it hard to focus, and Buck moves his bad arm to hold onto Eddie's shoulder. Buck's lips are soft, and he's angled in a way that gives Eddie control over what's happening, his top lip between Eddie's.

Buck breaks the kiss first, panting into Eddie's mouth, clinging to him to stop him from moving, but Eddie's the first to close the gap. He barely lets Buck get two breaths in before he's back on him, licking tentatively into his mouth.

Buck digs his nails in and makes a sound, which is what drags Eddie back to earth. This wasn't a quick peck better - they're making out, and Eddie's about a second away from climbing onto the couch and totally blanketing Buck in his own body.

He leans away. Buck chases him up for a bit, eyes foggy, cheeks flushed.

"Better?" Eddie asks, and his voice only shakes a little.

"Yeah, I feel lots better," Buck croaks, and - well, as if Eddie needed anything else right now, Buck sounds wrecked and Eddie only wants to make it worse.

"Well you guys are disgustingly cute," Maddie says, sitting down in Buck's armchair and grinning at both of them. "I can't believe I'm getting dinner and a show."

"Mads," Buck groans, and Eddie tries to laugh, sitting up.

"So, Eddie," Maddie says, watching them over the rim of her wine glass, "You mentioned you have a son?"

"Christopher," Eddie says. He's still kind of thinking about Buck's lips. "He's seven."

"My baby brother loves kids," she says. "He's basically just a big kid himself."

"I'm not a baby," Buck whines, very much sounding like one, and Eddie and Maddie share a look before bursting into fits of laughter.

Eddie thinks he likes Buck's sister.

~*~

They don't talk about the kiss, at all, or the fact that Eddie initiated it and then kept it going even after Buck had broken it, or that nothing about it felt fake.

Instead, they keep fake-dating, with the week ending on a date in the mall. Buck likes buying clothes, Eddie realises, even if they are all henley shirts in varying shades of red and blue.

Eddie buys bubble tea and follows Buck around, mostly just happy for the company and the good discussion. He'll have to pick Chris up from school soon, but for now, it's the mall with Buck, who acts like a kid in a candy store.

"You should be careful with that," Buck warns.

"With what?"

"Bubble tea," he says seriously.

"Why?" Eddie laughs.

"A kid once drank so much bubble tea that the pearls in it caused a massive block in his digestive tract," Buck says, pulling a denim jacket off the rack to look at it critically. "He even got hospitalised for it. The pearls are really hard for your body to break down. He had a full-on bowel obstruction and nearly needed _surgery_ for it."

Eddie wrinkles his nose. "I'll be okay. And if I'm not, I've got you."

Buck gives him a doubtful look. "I'm not helping you with a bowel obstruction."

"Ouch," Eddie laughs. "At least you'll know what's wrong with me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

They walk around for a while, mostly trash talking each other while Buck spouts off more random facts than Eddie knows useful ones. He either reads a lot or he's making stuff up as he goes, but either way, Eddie doesn't mind listening.

They're about fifty yards from the exit of the mall when Buck's head jerks up, sudden, eyes alert and focussed. Eddie senses it a second later - something bad is about to happen.

Something moves, too quickly to register, in his field of vision, and Buck grabs him, shoves him into the ground before following along. There's a screech and an explosion of glass, so violent it rains down over the top of them, and then silence.

For a split second, silence.

Then the screams start - not just one, dozens, little kids and mothers and old people and grown men, all shouting and crying out. Buck lifts his head and looks at Eddie.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah, I think so." Buck pushes to his knees and turns; Eddie follows suit. "Holy shit."

Eddie follows his gaze.

The bus has careened through the huge glass front to the indoor section of the mall, and it's tipped on its side, bent and shattered in such a way that Eddie thinks it isn't possible for there to be survivors. If he looks too closely, he can see blood on the windows and the bodies of people spread out nearby.

"That's a bus," he hears himself say.

"Eddie." Buck's got a hand on him. "Eddie, you with me?"

He is, sort of. He's zoned. The screams make it hard to stay in the present. But he looks at Buck, climbs to his feet when Buck urges him to, and says, "Yeah, I'm with you."

"Call 911," Buck says. "Tell them what happened." His eyes flit over Eddie's face; he's still holding Eddie's arms. "I..."

"Those people need you," Eddie says. He knows it's what Buck's looking for - permission to go, to do what he's trained to do and help.

"Just stay here," Buck pleads, and then he's off, towards the bus and the oil that's spilling out of the side. Eddie dials 911, shuts off what he's feeling, and speaks briskly to the operator, giving her as much information as he can.

It's not Maddie, which he's grateful for. He wouldn't know what to do if the person on the other end knew him. Sometimes, it's easier to not be known.

He looks over at the wreckage, notes that only Buck is attempting to do anything to rescue the people inside. He's climbed up onto the side of the bus, reaching in, trying to get people out, and he's shouting but Eddie can't hear what he says.

A person - an emergency responder trained for high-risk situations - can be smart. People, as a whole, are usually pretty stupid, which is something Eddie's known most of his adult life but still something that never fails to surprise him.

And for a moment, he's one of them, and fear paralyses him. He's not in the mall - he's in Afghanistan, blood in the sand and seeping into the cracks of his skin, following the lines of his fingerprints, in his uniform, in everything. That's the thing about blood, it gets everywhere, and it's a stain almost impossible to remove. When he looks at his hands now he can almost see it, still, see his friends who he was too inexperienced to help.

The last time he was in a high-risk situation his friends died, and he was adrift for month. Useless to everyone, including Christopher.

"Get it together," he says to himself, sucking in a breath. "Christ, Eddie, get it together-"

These people need Buck and Buck needs him. The fire department and anyone who matters is at least ten minutes away. He's still fighting the flashbacks but he's grounded with the idea that Buck needs his help with this, that he can't leave Buck alone in helping these people.

His feet move, finally, towards the wreck, past people who are crying and standing shocked and speechless, bleeding, holding each other - some people are filming, he realises, which he'll deal with later. He notes the spread of oil from the bus, the smell of burning somewhere. They're going to have to move fast.

He climbs up next to Buck, who's leaning in through one of the broken windows. "What do you need me to do?" he asks.

Buck doesn't stop to question him. "They can't get out," he says. "I'm gonna jump in, do an assessment until the fire department can get here - can you help me get them out?"

"Yeah, of course." He says it like he wasn't just on the brink of a breakdown. "We need to move fast - there's an oil spill, something's burning."

"Yeah, I got it."

He helps lower Buck into the bus through broken glass, wincing when a piece catches on his arm and scratches him. Buck's immediately moving, triaging as best he can. He's cutting seatbelts off people with something on his keys.

"Eddie, how's the fuel?" he calls tensely.

Eddie sticks his head over the side. There's a lick of flame starting, and he can smell burning. His stomach turns over.

"Hurry up, Buck," he says.

Buck turns in a circle, then says, "If I push the doors from this side and you pull, we might be able to get them open, get as many people as possible off this thing. Can you hear sirens?"

"No," Eddie says tersely, and crosses to the doors of the bus despite his better judgment. Buck's already there, and he places his hands on the glass, nodding.

Eddie pulls, and Buck pushes. The glass explodes against his hands, showering him with it even as he ducks to cover his head.

"Mierda," Eddie swears. "Buck, you good?"

"I'm okay," Buck says. "Give it another shot." Buck's bleeding, now that Eddie looks, from a few cuts on his wrists and arms - the blood is bright red and flowing quickly, and Eddie suddenly remembers that Buck is on blood thinners.

"You're bleeding-"

"Eddie, try again," Buck urges.

He does, and this time, the door moves, enough to create a glass-free passage. Buck starts boosting people up and out, and Eddie grabs them, one after another, until there are hands on his shoulders and a voice saying, "Easy, son, we've got this now."

He's not so sure and it feels like his responsibility now that he's started, but he steps away anyway. He's removed enough to start hearing the crying again, the shouts of pain. He'd blocked it out while working with Buck, because he had to.

It's easy, once you're trained, to slip into a space of ignorance to get everything done, to compartmentalise for another day.

"Buck," he says. "Buck?"

No answer. Logically, he knows that Buck is still inside the bus, but-

"Hey, Loverboy."

He whips around. Chimney's standing behind him, idly smacking on some gum.

"Hey," Eddie says. "Have you seen-"

"Buck? Yeah, your other half is getting patched up. Got some cuts from the glass, and, you know. Blood thinners." Chimney points, and Eddie follows his gaze to where Buck is sitting with Hen, clearly being admonished if his expression is anything to go by.

"Oh," Eddie says. "He looks... fine?"

"That's our Buckaroo." Chimney surveys him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." It's true, strangely enough. His hands are steady, and his mind is clear. The only thing he's worried about is how much Buck was bleeding in the bus carriage. "Can I go sit with him?"

"Sure." Chimney's smiling.

He heads over to Buck, who gives him a sheepish smile. "It's worse than it looks," he states, as Eddie catches sight of the blood on his arms.

"Wouldn't hurt you to keep your blood inside your body where it belongs once in a while," Hen mutters.

"I can't help it," Buck whines.

"Sorry, Buck," Eddie says. "I'm gonna have to take her side with this one."

Buck's eyes train past him, then, and the smile drops. "Hi, Cap," he says nervously.

Eddie turns. Bobby is standing there, impassive, regarding Buck in the way that Eddie regards Christopher when he's proud and also mad about something. It's such a parental expression Eddie wonders if they really aren't related.

"Evan Buckley..."

"First name treatment," Hen whispers to Eddie. "Never a good sign."

Buck's shoulders hunch, and Bobby sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Will you ever stop being brave and stupid?" Bobby demands.

"Those are my only two personality traits," Buck says meekly, and Eddie and Hen snort. "Besides, I had Eddie here. He helped me."

Bus, meet Eddie. Literally.

"You helped?" Bobby asked. Hen leads Buck away to get the blood cleaned off him, muttering something about sparing him any more of Bobby's wrath.

Eddie feels tense all of a sudden. "It wasn't my idea," he says weakly. "I just... yeah. I helped."

Bobby regards him, blank-faced but busy beneath the mask. It's an expression Eddie is familiar with from years in the military.

"You're calm under pressure, Eddie," he says. "The department could use a man like you."

Buck looks over at them, then looks away. He heard, but he's going to give the impression that he didn't overhear anything, and for that, Eddie is grateful.

"I served in Afghanistan," he says. "Field medic."

"Silver star," Bobby says, and Eddie raises his chin slightly.

"How did you know that?"

"I looked into your record when you started dating our youngest," Bobby says calmly, as if he hasn't just referred to Buck as some sort of surrogate son. "Pressure doesn't bother you, does it?"

"No," Eddie grits out, "but people dying does."

Buck, thankfully, chooses that moment to intervene. He bounds over, looking a combination of nervous and happy, and says, "Hey, Cap. If it's okay, Eddie and I were kind of in the middle of something, so-"

"Of course," Bobby says, and smiles. He holds his hand out to Eddie. Eddie hesitates, but he does shake it. The captain unnerves him, because Eddie can't tell what he's thinking, and his face is impassive.

"You're a good man, Eddie," Bobby says. "These people are lucky you were here today."

"Thank you," Eddie says, stiffly, because he's not sure what else he's supposed to say. He and Buck leave, hands joined, and if the tight grip Eddie has on Buck's fingers is hurting him, Buck doesn't say anything.

Once they're far enough away, Buck turns to him. "Holy crap," he says, eyes wide. "Eddie, that was badass!"

His enthusiasm is infectious; Eddie has to smile. "Thanks, Buck."

"Seriously!" Buck steps in front of him, and if Eddie didn't know better he'd say Buck's eyes were glowing with how starstruck he is. "Eddie, you saved those people."

"We both did," Eddie points out, and Buck grins, shuffling on the spot like he's gaming for a hug. Eddie gives into it, lets Buck tug him in close and hard, feels Buck's fingers spread over his back like he's trying to hold as much of Eddie as he possibly can.

Apart from his son, Buck gives the best hugs Eddie's ever experienced.

"We make a good team," Eddie says. "You weren't so bad yourself out there."

Buck flushes happily. "Wh - me?" he asks.

Eddie laughs. Buck's latent golden retriever genes are in full force today. "Yeah, you," he says. "You smashed that glass in without even thinking of yourself. Looks like you're in the right job."

Buck smiles, all blinding white teeth and crinkled eyes. He's still clutching Eddie's hand, raises his arm up so that he has it at his chest and wraps his other hand around Eddie's wrist. He's got huge, strong hands, hands that could do a lot of damage if they wanted to - but this is Buck, and Eddie suspects he'd sooner die than hurt anyone else.

"You're steady as a rock," Buck marvels. "Normally people are shaking after something like that."

"I've been in situations like that before," Eddie says, softly. He doesn't want to talk about it, and that must show on his face, because Buck lets their hands drop back to their sides and starts talking.

"When I went on my first call I shook for hours afterwards," he admits. "The adrenaline is crazy. And it happens less now but sometimes there's a really bad one and it comes back. I don't mind, but I don't really like getting used to it."

Eddie marvels at how Buck can be so effortlessly open, even as Eddie is still more stranger than friend or anything else. "You don't want to get used to it?" he asks.

"No." Buck chews his lip thoughtfully. "It makes you human. Caring about people enough to get scared, that makes you good at what you do, I think."

Eddie's the opposite. He wishes he could turn it off and never feel anything, sometimes. The weight of his friends' deaths in Afghanistan weighs on him every day, and truthfully, that's the last time he remembers feeling his hands shake. Nothing as bad has happened since. Eddie doubts it ever will.

But he's not going to tell Buck that, because Buck will regard him with that wide-eyed, concerned, uncertain expression he gets sometimes.

And today... he felt something, helping those people. After the first few moments of wanting to run and make it someone or anyone else's problem, when he was sure he'd fuck it up and that he'd get someone killed, it felt almost good. Not that they were in pain, or that they were dying, but he was able to do something. He wasn't helpless.

"Cap's right," Buck says. "Anyone would be lucky to have you in a pinch."

~*~

He can't sleep.

There's plenty of things on his mind. Shannon and how he's going to get her to leave them alone. Christopher and managing his cerebral palsy while dealing with the whole Shannon thing.

Buck, always Buck. Buck and his stupid big hands and his even bigger heart, the way he smiles and makes Eddie laugh. The way he helps Christopher with everything like it's natural, like it's not a burden.

Eddie's a little jealous of that. Christopher has and always will be his main reason to keep breathing, and he loves his kid fiercely enough to die if it came to that. But he struggles, and sometimes, it's obvious. He hasn't mastered the patented Evan Buckley charm when it comes to managing difficult situations.

If he's honest with himself, which he endeavours to be roughly once or twice a month, he's also thinking about how warm that little strip of skin between Buck's shirt and belt was, or the way Buck hugs like he wants to fuse Eddie's broken bits back together. And his mouth. That too. He's thinking about the way Buck let Eddie lean over him and hold him and kiss him, like he didn't have any reason to be afraid.

As if Eddie hasn't let down everyone he's ever cared about.

He groans, rolling over to the cool side of the bed. It's midnight, and much like many of the nights he finds himself awake at this hour, he's a combination of self-loathing and horny. It's a pretty fucked up combination if he does say so himself.

He almost reaches for his phone. Almost texts Buck, then remembers Buck is probably sleeping. He throws the sheets back and gets out of bed, pacing the length of his room for nearly five minutes just to move. To do something.

Finally, after some deliberation, he heads to the kitchen and pops the fridge. He's got beer, and he cracks it open as he goes to the living room and slumps on the couch with a defeated sigh.

Shannon. Christopher. Buck. The total and utter chaos that is his life, the mess that he created that he can't fix. What the hell was he thinking, hiring a fake boyfriend?

Why did he kiss Buck today? It wasn't any benefit to him. It was Buck's sister, and his presence in Buck's apartment was obviously enough to convince her they were together in the first place. He doesn't need to convince anyone on Buck's side of the fence. Buck's such a good actor everyone just wholeheartedly believes him.

So why, then, did Eddie kiss him? And why was it so hard for him to break away from it, even when Buck came up for air? Especially when Buck had whimpered into his mouth?

His cock stirs with interest. He groans, digging his heel into the base, muttering, "No ahora por favor," and wishing he was the kind of guy who'd be happy to bang random women. Clearly, he needs it, if thinking about his friend is doing this to him.

He can't work it out and he can't shake the feeling that he's missing something. Shannon, Christopher, Buck.

And Bobby, telling him he was good out there today.

He sits, grabs his laptop. Now that it's over he can admit to himself that he felt good, great even, after it had all passed. Cloud nine. The adrenaline surging through him had woken him up, forced him to open his eyes. It's not that he hates the garage, or mechanic work. But...

For the first time since he's come home from Afghanistan, Eddie itches to do something more.

He's spent so many years running. First from the reality of Chris's cerebral palsy, and then from his relationship with Shannon. He's run until his lungs gave out, dead end after dead end, chasing his tail and gnawing his own leg in an effort to escape the trap he set for himself.

And now, at one in the morning, with a beer bottle cradled in one hand and his laptop screen illuminated in front of him, he suddenly feels a faint yearning for more. To do something other than run.

Sometimes, he feels like he never left Afghanistan. Like every choice he makes brings him back there, even if it's his dreams. Like he's paying penance but he isn't sure what he's paying it for. He's still in the sand and the dirt, under the heat, surrounded by the souls of his friends, dead or dying or close to it.

Now, it's like there's this little chink of light in the darkness and it's calling him.

_"You're a good man, Eddie,"_ Bobby had said. _"These people are lucky you were here today."_

Eddie doesn't believe it. He can't, yet, when he's let so many people down in the past. But maybe Bobby and Buck saying it can be enough for him to try.

He takes a deep breath, blinks once, and types _join lafd_ into the search bar.


	6. Dynamic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okso this is the chapter i've really been wanting to release and i forced myself to wait a lil so i could sort of get chapters 7 and 8 done
> 
> also thank you very much to those who have read this story enough times to point out inconsistencies and errors! i will be going back to fix those shortly :) 
> 
> enjoy!

Eddie must have been a terrible person in a past life, because the universe is fucking with him to such a degree he's wondering if he should just stay at home under a blanket.

First he wakes up late. Then as a result Christopher is late to school, and to top things off, Shannon has been calling obsessively. Buck's not answering his texts and Pepa is annoyed that his shift changed and he can't make it to dinner.

So when he gets a call from an unknown number, his first thought is that his house is probably on fire. He answers, wiping his face of sweat, and says, "Hello?"

"Eddie Diaz?" the voice says. He swallows - he can hear the authority in it, briefly flashes back to his drill sergeant from the academy. It's a woman, and it's a woman who doesn't take any shit.

"Speaking," he says.

"I'm Sergeant Athena Grant from the L.A.P.D," the voice says, sounding half bored and half annoyed. "Come get your man. He be tripping."

"He - Buck?"

"Unless you got another man we need to be aware of?" He winces; he can hear her raised eyebrows over the phone.

"No ma'am," he says. "Just - tripping?"

"You'll see when you get here, kid."

~*~

He pulls up to the 118 so quick he skids, jumps out of the car, and heads inside.

He's not expecting to see two cop cars and several dazed-looking firefighters milling around, or how exasperated Chimney looks.

"Chim?" he asks, striding forward. "What's going on? I got a call from a police sergeant telling me to come get Buck, is he okay?"

"Come on," Chimney sighs. "I'll explain on the way."

He follows Chimney through the station, dodging out of the way of the bemused firefighters. "We had some snacks dropped off today," Chimney says. "Brownies. Everyone into the station got into them, and, well-"

"You guys eat those?" Eddie asks, horrified. "What if they have crack in them?"

"That's exactly what I said."

Eddie turns to find the owner of the voice on the phone striding towards them, looking thoroughly done with the situation. "Athena Grant," she says, shaking his head. "I hope to hell you're Eddie Diaz. For my sake."

"That's me," Eddie says. "What's wrong with Buck? Is he okay?"

"Oh, your boo is just fine," Athena says dryly. "In fact, he's better than fine."

"Better than-"

"Eddie!"

Buck is sitting on the back of one of the ambulances, hands cuffed behind his back, looking absolutely thrilled to see him. He has a slow, stupid smile on his face, and his eyes are huge with surprise.

"You handcuffed him?" Eddie demands.

"It was for his own good," Athena says, and Eddie suddenly understands that as Buck gathers his ridiculously long legs beneath him, wobbles off the back of the ambulance, and slams into Eddie, attempting to hug him just by knocking their heads close together.

"I want to hug you," Buck says sadly. "But my bracelets don't move."

"Hijo de una cabra sin madre," Eddie groans. "Estás drogado."

"I'm so happy to see you," Buck gushes, attempting to get close again and only succeeding in knocking Eddie around with the twenty pounds he has on him.

"I'm glad to see you too," Eddie sighs, rubbing Buck's back in an attempt to stymie his desperate bid to climb all over him. "Can we... you know, uncuff him? He's not under arrest, right?"

"Not for anything other than being a damn fool," Athena sighs. "You gonna take him home?"

"What?" Eddie splutters. "Me?"

Her left eyebrow arches in perfect disdain. "He is your boo, correct?" she asks slowly. "Or did Bobby call in a background check for nothing?"

"Athena!" Buck says, raising his head. "This is my boyfriend Eddie!"

"We've established that, Buckaroo," Chimney sighs. "Several times over the last hour. You know, when you kept saying, "I miss Eddie, I want Eddie to come get me" when we tried to call your sister."

"I don't know what to do with a stoned person!" Eddie hisses. He'll analyse Buck asking for him later. Much later, as in maybe never. Hell, he's not even touching the boyfriend part with a ten foot pole.

"Well he ain't leaving here like this," Athena says, "so if you don't take him, those cuffs stay on until he's slept it off."

"Wait." Buck sounds upset. "I'm high?"

"Oh, honey, there are kites that make you look like the moon and stars," Athena deadpans.

Buck tugs at the handcuffs, whines, and turns huge, suspiciously wet eyes on Eddie. Eddie doesn't know what to do with a high person and he definitely doesn't know what to do with a crying Buck. If he didn't know better, he'd swear those eyes were saying _please don't leave me here_. He looks exactly like the damn golden retriever puppy Eddie keeps comparing him to.

"Dios mío, por qué siempre es así...? Okay, okay, fine," he says, as Buck sniffles pathetically. "I'll take him home and look after him. Can we get the cuffs off him now?"

"You heard your boo, kid," Athena says, pulling at Buck's arm to try and get him off Eddie. "We'll take the cuffs off and you can go sleep it off."

Buck resists, as much as he can without use of his arms. "Uh oh," Chimney sighs, not making any move to help him. "Octopus mode engaged."

"He's a strong octopus," Eddie snarls, forcing Buck away by the biceps and enduring Athena's hands far too close to his dick while she uncuffs Buck.

The moment the cuffs are off, Buck's hugging him properly, clinging as he staggers and pushing his head into Eddie's. "I missed you so much," he sighs. "It's been like forty million years."

Chimney chokes on a laugh. "Have fun," he says to Eddie.

"Wait, what?" Eddie demands. "You're gonna leave him with me like this?"

"You're his boyfriend, you chose him, he's your problem," Chimney says, a serene smile on his face. "And he is officially not mine to worry about. Godspeed, Edmundo."

"You told Chimney my full name?" Eddie demands.

Buck looks up at him, real tears in his eyes, and says, "I'm sorry."

Eddie sighs. He can't stay mad with Buck looking like that and clinging to him like he needs him just to exist.

"Take him home," Athena sighs. "He'll sleep it off and be good in the morning. Until then, try to keep him away from sharp things... he's on blood thinners."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie says.

"And just so we're clear," Athena says, stepping forward, "you hurt that kid, you'll be in a world of pain, you understand?"

Eddie gulps. "Yes ma'am."

"Eddie's great," Buck croons, apparently having forgotten he was upset less than thirty seconds ago. He's back to rubbing his face against Eddie's. "He wouldn't do anything bad ever, Athena, I promise."

"What an outstanding review," Athena snarks, taking her leave after patting Buck on the shoulder.

Eddie sighs. He's got an armful of clingy Buck and no idea what to do with him. They can't go out like this, he knows that much. He also knows that this is the longest hug he's had in a while, and it's so fantastic he doesn't want it to stop.

Is it wrong of him to take advantage of a touchy-feely Buck when he's high?

"Alright," he says. "C'mon, Buck, we're getting you into the car. You're gonna come home with me, okay?"

"Okay," Buck says happily.

At least he's not a sad stoner, Eddie muses as he opens the door and puts his hand on top of Buck's head to stop him from hitting it as he gets into the car. He leans across to strap Buck in, because although Buck really does seem to be trying to use the seatbelt, he's failing completely.

"You're so wasted," Eddie sighs, closing the car door.

~*~

Buck follows him into the house happily enough, although he does ask a few times why they're there.

"You ate something bad," Eddie explains as he forces some water on Buck.

Buck wrinkles his nose. "I don't feel bad."

"Okay, you ate drugs," Eddie says. "Which is still bad."

"I ate drugs? Did I do it on purpose?"

"Somehow I don't think so," Eddie says dryly.

Buck smiles goofily, downs his glass of water - spills it when he's too enthusiastic and gets it all over his mouth and chin - and then crowds into Eddie's space, pressing him against the counter and leaning on him happily. He turns his face to lay his cheek on Eddie's shoulder, sinks down, and puts his arms around Eddie's waist.

He should be worried. About how clingy Buck is, about being addressed as Buck's boyfriend, about a range of different things - but he can't bring himself to be when this is the longest hug he's had in a long time.

He sighs, turns his head, and presses a brief kiss to Buck's ear. "I got you, cariño," he says absently, winding an arm around Buck's shoulders.

Buck getting accidentally high off donated baked goods isn't actually the worst thing that could happen to Eddie, and there's something inherently fucked up about that. He's warm, though, and cuddly, which Eddie sort of didn't expect from someone this tall and broad in the first place.

"You want food?" he asks Buck. He doesn't mind this, strangely - standing in the kitchen, pinned against the counter, with Buck attempting to climb him. Even a month ago he would have balked at the idea of being close with another guy for this amount of time.

"Yeah," Buck mumbles.

Eddie makes them sandwiches, and after eating, Buck promptly passes out on Eddie's couch, right into a dead-sleep that could be due to shift work and overtime or the drugged bakery goods. Either way, Eddie's happy for the company, and goes about doing laundry and cleaning Chris's room.

He told himself he wouldn't do that anymore. That Chris had to learn to do it himself. But sometimes he can't help it, and he just wants to spoil his kid.

When he enters the living room again, he sighs, lifts Buck's legs, and sits down on the couch. Buck doesn't stir. He doesn't seem bothered by it being broad daylight or the sound of someone's lawnmower nearby either.

He's wearing the tight black LAFD t-shirt he usually has on under his button up. Eddie stares at the logo on his chest, watches as it rises and falls with Buck's breathing.

He itches to open his laptop. He'd gotten as fair as typing join lafd into the search bar the other night before chickening out entirely.

He just doesn't know how to make it different this time around, that's all. How to run towards something instead of just away, aimlessly.

"Like what you see?"

He's still staring at Buck's chest, and Buck is grinning up at him sleepily. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Looks like I got the normal Buck back," he says, "and not the sweet, cuddly one from before."

"I'm sweet and cuddly all the time," Buck argues, kicking his feet a little and making Eddie grunt. "Dick."

"Have you slept off the drugs?" Eddie asks innocently.

Buck blinks, looks around. "Wait," he says. "I'm-"

"At my place," Eddie finishes for him. "You ate drugged food, Buck. Athena called me to come and get you. You kept refusing to let Maddie take you home."

Buck, to his credit, only blushes faintly. "I didn't know they were drugged," he mumbles. "We get lots of stuff at the station. Normally it's okay. It's only happened one other time."

"One other - and you didn't learn your lesson?"

"They were macadamia nut brownies," Buck whines, reversing positions so his head is in Eddie's lap. If he notices Eddie jerk in surprise, he boldly ignores it. "How was I supposed to say no?"

"How aren't you dead?"

"It's not like God hasn't tried," Buck says reasonably. "I'm just exceptionally badass."

Eddie really, really wants to pry, there, but if Buck hasn't told him about the reason he takes blood thinners yet, it's because he doesn't want to, so Eddie leaves it alone. Instead, he says, "So you've been drugged and I've dragged you back here. I think you owe me one."

Buck rolls onto his back properly, puts his arms behind his head, and says, "What do you want?"

The shirt is too small, Eddie's hindbrain says hysterically. Buck's shirt is too small and it's stretched across his chest and arms ridiculously, highlighting every single muscle, and it's ridden up at the bottom to reveal a strip of skin. Dios he's doomed.

Just then, the door opens, and Christopher's crutches sound across the floor. "Daddy!" he calls.

"Hey, buddy!" Eddie says, impressed when his voice doesn't even break. He looks down at Buck, who smiles up him.

"You can have a raincheck," he says.

"Buck, Buck!" Christopher squeals, seeing Buck on the couch. "Daddy didn't say you were coming!"

"It was a surprise!" Buck lifts Chris onto the couch effortlessly, lets the kid sit on his chest and makes a show of him being heavy while Christopher giggles. His head is still in Eddie's lap. "How was your day, kiddo?"

"It was great! Liam's mom said you should come round for his birthday party."

"Who, me?" Buck asks, pointing a finger at himself dramatically.

"Yes!" Chris giggles.

"What about me, mijo?" Eddie teases.

Chris blinks. "I guess you can come."

Buck explodes into a fit of laughter, his entire face lit up with it, his body rocking Chris, who joins in. "Ouch," he cackles. "That was straight up cold, Chris!"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I see how it is, Chris. Buck's your favourite now, huh?"

Chris grins toothily. "Sorry, Daddy," he says, looking unrepentant.

"So when's this party, little man?" Buck asks.

"I have the invite in my bag!"

"Well, let's go get it!"

With that, Buck heaves them both off the couch bodily, swinging Chris's body into his arms in a way that elicits a delighted shriek from his kid. Eddie watches them go fondly.

Even if this is fake, he's lucky to have Buck.

~*~

Things are going so well that Eddie sort of forgets about Shannon.

God knows how. But he does - his and Buck's fake date night is usually on Mondays, to give Chris something to look forward to. Eddie's never met anyone who thinks his kid is as cool as Eddie does, but Buck looks genuinely enthralled with Chris's serious retellings of the schoolyard drama.

The fake date night becomes so ingrained that Buck just starts showing up. He's somehow always free that night, which Eddie refuses to examine closely. He's refusing to examine a lot of things closely these days.

He opens the door on a Monday night, this particular Monday night, to a knock, grinning and ready to tease Buck mercilessly for the snapchats he'd gotten from Hen today (Buck, stuck in a children's slide, attempting to rescue a kid with a stuck hand), only to be met with Shannon.

He feels his face fall and drain. "Shannon," he says.

"Expecting someone else?"

"Yeah, actually. Buck's coming over."

She shrugs. "I don't mind."

"I do," Eddie says, exasperated. "We talked about showing up unannounced. You know it throws Christopher off."

"I just wanted to see him," Shannon says, her voice a little broken and a little quiet in the way that Eddie has never really known how to manage.

"I know, but he-"

"Mommy?"

He turns around, heart sinking when he sees Christopher in the hallway. He looks a little uncertain, wobbly, and definitely not happy to see his mom. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders why it has to be so hard for single dads to get full custody of their kids.

If he thought it was a fight he'd win, he'd take it. He knows it isn't.

"Hi, baby," Shannon coos, stepping past Eddie. She kisses him, but Chris doesn't seem that enthusiastic about the affection.

"It's a school night," Eddie says quietly. "I was going to get him to bed soon."

"Well, one late night won't hurt!" Shannon says desperately. "Right, baby boy?"

Chris looks unsure, staring between Shannon and Eddie. Finally, he says timidly, "Is Bucky still coming?"

"Buck's still coming," Eddie reassures him. He'd gotten a confirmation text from Buck earlier. "Shannon, he's got homework."

"Well, I can help him do it in the living room," she says. "Let you do some cleaning."

It's so underhanded and rude that Eddie's jaw almost drops, but she's already flounced out, shoes clicking across the floorboards. Chris looks upset, and Eddie kneels down.

"I didn't know, buddy," he whispers.

Chris nods, sniffles. "I wanted to hang out with Buck," he says tearfully.

"You can still hang out with Buck. He's still coming."

"What if Mommy's mean to him again?" Chris's eyes are shining with tears. "He got really sad last time. He might leave."

"Buck loves you," Eddie says, startled to realise as he says it that it's true. "Mommy being mean to him won't make him go away."

Chris sniffles again. "If Mommy's mean I'll stand up to her," he says.

"No, buddy," Eddie murmurs, smoothing his hand over Chris's wild blonde curls. "That's my job. You're a kid. You don't have to stand up to Mom."

"Knock knock!"

Eddie turns, sees Buck in the doorway, and feels his shoulders loosen with sheer relief. He's holding a bag of snacks in one hand and a stuffed animal in the other, with the tag still on the ear - clearly, he's pulling out the stops tonight. Eddie wonders why.

"Hey." He gets up, hugs Buck, and tries not to sink into it when Buck squeezes him happily. He's wearing a light blue henley and sinful black jeans, brown shoes that he almost steps on Eddie's toes with.

"Why the long face, Eds?" Buck asks.

Chris hobbles over on his crutches, head down, and Buck's face falls as he kneels down. "What's up, little man?" he asks seriously.

"Mommy's here," Chris mumbles tearfully.

Buck shoots a look up at Eddie. "Well," he says, "it's a good thing I brought you this, then!"

He flourishes the stuffed animal. It's a bright green dragon with floppy felt wings, and it somehow elicits a smile from Christopher, even as he continues to look far more worried than a seven year old has any right to.

"What's that!"

"Well, it's the funniest thing, Chris," Buck says, sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs. Chris crawls into his lap, and Buck stays where he is like he didn't wince getting down there. "I was at work today, right? And I stopped in at a gift shop in the hospital-"

Eddie's eyes narrow of their own accord. Buck went to a hospital. Interesting, and something he definitely needs to follow up on later.

"And this little guy just jumped off the shelf! Right on top of me - can you believe that? - and said he was lonely! I thought, I know just the kid for the job of raising a baby dragon."

Chris grins. "Me?"

"How did you know?" Buck gasps.

"Eddie."

The moment is ruined by Shannon's entrance into the hallway. Christopher cuddles into Buck's body, wraps his arms around Buck's neck and clings silently, which is unusual enough for him that Buck meets Eddie's eyes over Chris's shoulder, clearly worried.

Eddie feels about a second away from a total rage-induced meltdown, but he's a little calmer with Buck here. Now, at least, if it's one on one between him and Shannon, Buck can look after Christopher.

When did he start relying on Buck so much? Whenever he needs help, Buck is his first point of call, and Buck - well, Buck never, ever lets him down.

"Give us a moment, Shannon," Eddie says curtly.

She surveys all three of them, calmly, as if she thinks she's about to get her way, and walks off. Buck clambers to his feet awkwardly - winces again, and Eddie really needs to ask him about that - still clutching Chris, the snacks, and the stuffed dragon.

"Thanks for coming," Eddie says softly. Christopher is still hanging on for dear life, and Eddie, knowing Shannon is either listening or watching from the living room, leans in to kiss Buck's cheek.

"What's going on?" Buck whispers.

"She just showed up." Eddie hates how tense he sounds, how he can't even fake it to make his kid feel better about the whole thing.

Shannon chooses that moment to enter the hallway, and Chris - hearing the click of her shoes on the floor - holds so tightly to Buck his little fingernails are digging into Buck's skin. If it hurts, Buck says nothing - he just gets his arms more securely around Chris and steps delicately into the kitchen.

He doesn't say or do anything. Eddie is endlessly grateful for him. It gives him the opportunity to turn and face Shannon.

"We can't keep doing this," Eddie says. "It's bad for him, Shannon."

"What's bad for him is having some random guy in his house because his father suddenly decided he was gay," Shannon says, exasperated.

"Buck isn't a random guy," Eddie says, patiently. "But we can talk about that another time. Chris needs structure and he needs to know that we both just have his best interests at heart-"

"I do," Shannon says heatedly. "You're the one who doesn't want him to see me!"

"I'm just worried you'll leave again," Eddie says. There's a lick of anger beginning in the pit of his stomach that he doesn't like - this is supposed to be a calm conversation. It never seems to be with Shannon, though - they can't seem to occupy the same space without one of them losing their shit. "Last time we didn't know where you'd gone. It nearly destroyed him, Shannon. What happens if it happens again?"

"It won't!"

"I don't know that for sure. Neither does Christopher."

"And him?" Shannon asks, jerking her head to the kitchen. Eddie hopes Buck has had the good sense to exit out into the living room or, even better, take Christopher to his bedroom.

"He has a name," Eddie says, trying to keep his voice even and low. "His name is Buck. He's done a lot for both of us."

"You're rubbing it in my face," Shannon says, her voice breaking. "The only thing you could've done to hurt me more than getting a new girlfriend was getting a damn boyfriend and you knew that!"

"I didn't do anything to hurt you!" That, at least, is the truth - get her to leave him alone? Yes. Hurt her? No. "What was I supposed to do, never move on? Never try again? Force any partner I have from here on out to hide and never acknowledge them?"

"Why are you even with him?" Shannon explodes. "He's years younger than you, you have nothing in common, he's - well, he's a he!"

"He makes me happy," Eddie says, only realising as it comes out of his mouth that it's true. "He makes Christopher happy." He shakes his head. "Did you really come here to talk about Chris, or did you come here to talk about Buck?"

"I want back into Chris's life," Shannon begs.

"Then get your act together," Eddie snaps. "Because right now the idea of seeing you stresses him out."

"I'm his mom! What does he think is going to happen-"

"That you'll leave again, or take him away, or that we'll fight even more than we did when we were together," Eddie says. "I don't know. He's seven. It probably feels like the end of the world to him and we have a responsibility to do better by him."

"Sure," Shannon says. "Is responsibility the reason you stayed in Afghanistan?"

Eddie reels. He knew it was bound to come up at some point, and he still somehow wasn't expecting it. "What?"

"Afghanistan, Eddie! You said you'd come back and you didn't, you stayed on! I needed you with us! You only came home because you managed to get your squad killed-"

"That's _enough_."

Eddie's about to really lose his shit and start to yell when Buck exits the kitchen, jaw set and eyes glinting. He's never seen Buck look like that before, like he's about to bulldoze whatever gets in the way of making sure people are alright. He even looks bigger, which is ridiculous.

Is this what people see when Buck turns up to rescue them?

"No one asked you to get involved-"

"No one had to," Buck says. "That was way over the line."

Shannon stares up at him. They're both squared off, stubbornly in each other's spaces, although Buck is standing closer to Eddie, relatively relaxed except for the set of his jaw. He's put his entire body between Eddie and Shannon, as if he thinks Shannon might pose serious danger to him.

It's more attractive than it has any right to be.

"Fine," Shannon says, throwing her hands up. "Seeing as you've got your guard dog here I guess I'll go. We aren't done, Eddie. You're going to have to face up to me at some point and let me see Christopher."

"When you're ready to have a civil discussion, we can talk about that," Eddie says stiffly.

Shannon rolls her eyes, throws her hands up, and leaves. Buck turns to watch her go, facing Eddie now. He lets his eyes drop to Eddie's face, and that steel Eddie had just seen in his gaze is gone. He's softer now, more concerned. Back to being Buck.

"Sorry, Eds," he murmurs. "I couldn't let her talk about you like that."

Eddie steps forward and hugs Buck as tightly as he can, trying to convey everything he feels through his actions. Buck hugs him back, sighing, pressing the side of his face into Eddie's and letting his fingers fan out over Eddie's shoulders, like he's trying to hold as much of Eddie as he possibly can.

"Thank you," Eddie says, refusing to pull away. "How much did you overhear?"

A pause. Then, "Do I really make you and Christopher happy?"

Eddie feels like he's about to melt. Buck apparently is not going to push him to talk about Afghanistan, which is more than Eddie can say for everyone else in his life. "Of course you do, novio," he says. "Mi hijo y yo amamos tenerte cerca."

Buck pulls away, a little pink at his ears, but nowhere else. "I like it when you speak Spanish," he admits. "Even when I don't understand most of what you say."

"You understand some of it?" Eddie asks, surprised.

"I tended bar in South America for a while. So I know a little. I've heard you say my God, and my son, and a few other things I understand. Mostly I don't." Buck wrinkles his nose. "I know estúpido though," he adds indignantly.

Eddie laughs. It's nice to be able to. "Yeah, you don't really need to translate that one." He pulls back a little, so they're not touching, even though they're standing so close he can feel Buck radiating warmth. "Where's Chris?"

"He's in his room with his headphones on," Buck says.

Eddie rubs his face. He feels so tired his bones have turned to iron, weighing him to the ground, making it hard to move. Fighting with Shannon always ends with him like this, exhausted with the weight of trying to be the bigger person. Just once, he'd like to immolate instead of going into lockdown.

Buck moves forward again, hesitantly, and puts his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asks.

It's been forever since someone even thought to ask him.

"I'm tired," Eddie admits, and Buck nods understandingly. "But there's dishes and school lunches and getting Chris to bed and-"

"I'll help," Buck says, immediately. "Why don't you just - I dunno, chill? And I'll do the rest."

"Buck, I pay you for some shit I definitely owe you more for," Eddie says tiredly. "But doing all my housework because I'm tired isn't one of those fake boyfriend things."

Buck sets his jaw stubbornly. "They might not be fake boyfriend things," he says heatedly, "but you said we're not fake friends. And right now you seem like you could use one of those."

"Are you mother henning me?" Eddie asks.

"If I have to, yes."

"I'm getting major abuela vibes," Eddie says as Buck hustles him none too gently into the living room. "But I think I can deal for one night."

"Good," Buck huffs. "You don't have a choice."

True to his word, Buck gets Christopher settled in for the night - story and all - and then heads to the kitchen, packs a lunch, and rinses off all the dishes before loading up the dishwasher and hand-washing the pans that can't go inside it. Eddie, in the meantime, sinks deeper and deeper into the couch and tries not to feel horribly guilty about how much work Buck is having to do.

While Buck works, Eddie goes to the bedroom and retrieves a little steel box under his bed. Inside are his dog tags, his silver star, and all his papers and photographs.

Buck deserves to know. Not only does he deserve to know after everything - Eddie wants him to know. He wants Buck to see this part of his life.

When Buck comes back from his endless pottering, Eddie's back on the couch, TV switched on to provide some much-needed background noise. Buck's brought them both beer, and he sighs as he collapses onto the couch next to Eddie.

"Thanks," Eddie says.

"Don't mention it," Buck says brightly. "Chris is such a cool kid."

"He really is," Eddie says.

They're quiet for a while. Buck turns his head to look at Eddie, and Eddie looks right back, allowing himself to memorise the birthmark on Buck's eye and the little lines at the corner of his mouth from laughing. His hair is unstyled - it always looks blonder like that.

"What?" Buck asks.

Eddie shakes his head. "I wanted to show you something," he says.

Buck sits up straighter, at attention. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Eddie grabs the box from the coffee table, aware that Buck is tracking his every movement with his eyes. "Shannon was right," he says quietly.

Buck frowns. "Don't say that."

"It's true, Buck," Eddie says, and hands Buck a photo of his team. "I was on tour when Chris was born," he explains quietly. "I had the chance to come home. I didn't."

Buck surveys the picture. "This is your squad?"

Eddie nods. "We got pinned," he says. "They all died. Except Jacobs and Vasquez." He rubs his neck. "They gave me my silver star because I ran in there and dragged them out. What they didn't mention in the speech was that everyone else died, and I nearly got myself killed in the process."

Buck traces the photo delicately with his hands. He hasn't said anything, but Eddie isn't getting the vibe that it's because he's judging.

"Shannon was right, Buck," he says, voice breaking a little. "I stayed in Afghanistan because I was scared to come home. How fucked up is that? I stayed in a warzone because I couldn't face my wife and kid. I got all my friends killed, and then I couldn't stay there either."

"You couldn't stay and you couldn't leave," Buck says softly. "You were stuck."

"And I did it to myself. I ran away from Shannon and Christopher when they needed me because I couldn't face either of them. Then I lost my friends, and I couldn't face my sergeant or anyone else. I was their medic. I failed them-"

Buck pushes the photograph towards him. "You saved Jacobs," he says quietly. "You saved Vasquez. Maybe you couldn't save them all, but you saved them."

"I fucked up, Buck," Eddie says. "I've spent my entire adult life running instead of looking for a way to fix things, and now I'm thirty-three and Chris is relying on me to do better, and I don't know how."

"You came back," Buck says simply. "Sure, maybe it feels like you fucked up. But you didn't stay gone, right? You came back. And now you're a single parent and you're doing great. But for what it's worth..." He looks down at his hands, licks his lips. "For what it's worth, Eddie, maybe it's okay for you to stop running now."

He's thought about it. Thought about using his army payout to actually buy something, instead of spending it all trying to make ends meet with rent and bills. But it means commitment. It means something has staying power. It would mean that the staying power would have to come from him.

Buck takes a deep breath. "I don't want you to keep paying me," he says.

Eddie's head shoots up so quick he almost gives himself whiplash. Is Buck really about to break it off after Eddie's laid all his damage out on the table? When he feels like he just ripped the scab off a wound?

"Buck..." he croaks.

"No, listen," Buck says. "It doesn't feel right to... that you pay me. We're friends, right? So I don't want you to pay me anymore. I'll still be your fake boyfriend, and it'll be like how it was. I won't take the money anymore."

"But don't you need it?" Eddie could stop haemorrhaging funds that way, but it doesn't feel right.

Buck hesitates. His knee knocks into Eddie's when he readjusts. "I don't do it for the money," he admits. "I don't need it. I'm... kind of lonely, and being someone's fake partner is a good way to be less lonely."

Eddie nods, sort of grateful that he's not the only one being vulnerable tonight even if he doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

"I'm less lonely with you," Buck says.

He's looking at Eddie in a way that makes Eddie feel like he's missing something important, but he can't quite grasp it. All he knows is that it's late and Chris is in bed and he feels unburdened for the first time in a long time, lighter, like he can start swimming forward instead of just treading water, and it's all because of Buck.

Buck gnaws his lip a little. Eddie's eyes zero in on the movement of his mouth, then drift back up to register the apprehension in his eyes. He knows he's about to do something stupid, but he really can't help it.

They move at the same time. Eddie's not exactly sure what his intention was, and he'll never find out because Buck beats him to it - he leans over and gives Eddie a short, sweet peck on the lips, then stays close, eyes closed. His hand is on Eddie's thigh.

"Sorry," he mumbles to Eddie's mouth. "I uh, I just-"

Eddie grabs Buck's waist and tugs, and Buck follows him willingly, settling with his legs on either side of Eddie's hips. He looks a little surprised to end up where he did, but neither of them dwell on it long - the electricity that's been crackling between them since their display for Maddie has finally sparked into a fire.

"Don't," Eddie says gruffly, and pulls Buck closer by his waist, leaning up to kiss him. He gets one hand on the back of Buck's neck, possessive, and Buck shuffles closer with one arm around Eddie's shoulders and the other braced on the back of the couch.

It's just like before, only they're not performing for anyone and there's no one to stop them. Eddie's not thinking, flying on instinct, chasing the warmth of Buck's body and the steady beat of a heart against his chest. He licks into Buck's mouth, desperate, and Buck whines.

It's the same noise that nearly destroyed his self control last time. Buck might be on top of him and bigger than him, but Eddie has never felt more in control of a situation. He runs his hand down Buck's broad, muscular back, high with the raw power he can feel shifting beneath his fingertips, and rucks Buck's shirt up at the back.

"Eddie," Buck breathes. "Are you sure-"

"Yes," Eddie says. "Shut up. Déjame cuidarte, cariño."

"Oh fuck," Buck whispers, and Eddie can feel him tremble a little when his lips find Buck's jaw. He's got that soft patch of skin at the base of Buck's spine under his fingertips, and he uses his other hand to trail down Buck's front.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Mm," Buck says, and turns his head to capture Eddie in another kiss. Buck's in it this time, less surprised and more desperate, arching into Eddie's touch and letting his own hands wander the sharp planes of Eddie's sides.

Eddie hesitates, slowing his movements down Buck's chest. His hand skates over Buck's belly, and he has a split second to decide whether he'll toy with Buck's belt or go up under his shirt.

The idea of more soft skin is too tantalising for him to resist. He slips his hand up, and Buck groans into his mouth, pushes closer until Eddie's hand is wedged in between them, pushing up towards Buck's chest again.

He can feel a hard ridge on Buck's right hand side, right at the top of his ribcage. He pauses, some tiny part of him wanting to explore what is obviously scar tissue, but Buck wriggles in a way that suggests he's not entirely comfortable with it, so Eddie moves on and up. He finds the centre of Buck's chest, feels his heart pounding.

"God," Eddie groans, unable to believe how responsive Buck is to him. He pushes sideways, a little distracted by Buck's mouth on his and his knees squeezing Eddie's hips, and finds Buck's left nipple. He pauses, but Buck gives him no indication on wanting to stop.

So he doesn't.

He brushes Buck's nipple with his thumb, and Buck breaks their kiss only to gasp into his mouth and rock desperately against him. He's hard, and Eddie can feel that against his stomach. It's raw, powerful, to have someone this size on top of him. Completely different from anyone he's ever been with before.

"Eddie," Buck gasps. "Don't stop."

"Dios, me estás matando," Eddie murmurs into Buck's mouth. "You're killing me."

Buck huffs a laugh and smiles against his mouth, rocking again. He's settling into a rhythm, and while he's close, Eddie can't help but feel like he could be closer.

He pulls at Buck's shirt. "Quita esto," he whispers into Buck's ear, and Buck shivers, lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan. "Quítatelo para mí."

Buck either understood part of his request, or he's gotten the hint, because he leans back enough for Eddie to pull his shirt up over his head, exposing more pale skin than Eddie knows what to do with. He rocks again, and this time Eddie grinds up to meet him.

"Fuck," Buck whispers brokenly. "If you keep that up I'm gonna come in my pants."

Something about that is so ridiculously attractive Eddie does it again, and again, until he can feel sweat begin across his chest and shoulders and Buck is panting into his mouth. He pulls at Eddie's shirt, and that comes off too.

"Please," he whimpers into Eddie's mouth.

"Please what?" Eddie asks, because he's evil and wants to hear Buck say it.

Buck rocks again. He's painfully hard against Eddie's stomach. "Help me?" he whispers, leaning back a little.

The words are innocent enough, but Eddie takes one look at Buck's face and realises Buck knows exactly what he's doing. Still, he plays along, grinding up into Buck as he works his hand down and pulls Buck's belt buckle until it snicks open.

He leaves it like that for a moment, staring at the contracting muscles that make up Buck's lower belly and hips. Buck's breathing hard, and Eddie can see every movement.

Buck leans in after a moment, shuffling close, rolling his hips in a way that is absolutely filthy. His cock - still inside his boxers - rubs against Eddie's belly, and Buck keens quietly, wrapping both arms around him.

"Ayuadame?" he asks uncertainly.

"Fuck," Eddie growls, and he grabs both of Buck's hips to roll up into him, rutting desperately against his jeans. Buck forces his head back, kisses him messily, apparently having gotten the response he wanted.

Eddie's close. He's so close he can't stand it, needs the finish line five minutes ago. He reaches down and palms Buck's cock through his boxers, experimenting with the first dick he's touched that isn't his own.

"Eddie, I'm gonna come," Buck whispers desperately. "If you don't stop I'm gonna-"

"Come, then," Eddie says. "I got you."

Buck's head drops to Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie can feel his mouth, open, against his neck, his pulse point. Buck shudders, and then his dick is pulsing against Eddie's hand, the boxers getting damp as Buck rocks desperately.

"Bueno chico," Eddie gasps, and follows him right over the edge, jerking up against Buck so hard Buck jolts with the movement. Every muscle contracts, and the only thing he's aware of is the pleasure, and Buck's breathing against his neck, and the aftershocks racing through Buck's body.

Buck slumps against him, forcing a grunt out of him. They're both breathing hard, and Buck's shoulders feel sticky with sweat.

Eddie comes back to earth. The man he considers to be his best friend is straddling him, sticky with sweat and come, and they're both shirtless, with Buck's pants partially open.

"Uh," Buck's voice says, from his shoulder. Eddie tries to look down, but Buck's hiding his face. "So. I didn't um..."

"Me neither," Eddie says, unsure of what they're agreeing on.

"That felt a little not fake," Buck admits, and Eddie's so surprised he laughs, and after a moment, Buck joins in. He begins to straighten, looks at Eddie, and smiles awkwardly.

He's blushing, and he looks totally wrecked. Even if it is weird because Buck is a guy, Eddie can still feel proud of putting that expression there.

"You're not mad?" Buck asks hopefully.

"Should I be? We both got off."

"I mean, I kinda started it, so I figured you might..."

"Well, I finished it," Eddie says, determined to not look down at Buck's lower body. "You want a shower? I can find you some clothes."

"That'd be great," Buck admits. "Thanks. For not being mad."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, so he settles for patting Buck's thigh. Buck gets off him, wobbling a little on legs that look as shaky as Eddie's feel.

"Sweats okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Buck says nervously. "That's fine."

He's in the bedroom, finding Buck pants, when it hits him. His jeans are unzipped and there's come drying in his underwear, and he's got scratch marks on his face and neck where Buck has rubbed his just-blooming stubble. His hips still ache deliciously from where Buck straddled him, rocked into him.

"Oh dios mio," Eddie breathes. "Tuve sexo con mi mejor amigo. Estoy condenado."


	7. Sleepovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a super fun chapter to write! as always, thank you for all the comments and love being left here and over at my tumblr <3 updates might be a little slower after this, because i haven't written much past chapter 8, but i know exactly where the story is going.
> 
> enjoy!

If Buck had the same realisation Eddie did, he doesn't show it.

He showers and changes into the sweats Eddie gives him, and he doesn't even seem to be freaking out. Tiptoeing a little, maybe, but after ten minutes of awkwardness Buck cracks a joke and Eddie laughs and they settle in for their usual movie and beer.

Eddie does not think about Buck wearing his sweats and probably no underwear. He just came, for crying out loud, harder than he has in months. On said best friend. What the hell is wrong with him?

Buck stands when he finishes his beer, wincing, and downright limps to the kitchen. "Want another?" he asks.

Eddie gawks, watching Buck's unsteady gait and the way it seems to affect the whole leg, not just part of it, all the way from hip to ankle.

"Are you hurt?" he demands.

Buck raises his head. He's just come in from the kitchen, holding two beers, evidently assuming Eddie wants another. He must be on an afternoon shift tomorrow. "What?"

"You're limping. Are you hurt?"

"Oh." Buck settles with pained frown, his leg stiff. "I usually put deep heat on it. It's just bothering me tonight because I haven't."

"You normally-? What do you mean normally?" Eddie demands. "Have I missed something?"

Buck sighs. He looks tired, all of a sudden, and small. Considering all near two hundred pounds of him was just pressing Eddie into the couch hard enough he can still feel the strain in his thighs, looking small is an impressive feat.

"I'll get you some deep heat," Eddie says softly. "Stay here."

He finds deep heat in the bathroom medicine cabinet and takes it back to Buck, who looks a little sheepish. "Where's it go?" Eddie asks.

"My hip. Usually."

They stare at each other. Eddie's not handing over the deep heat and Buck's not reaching for it and this is a fucking weird thing to have a stalemate over.

Finally, Eddie shoves Buck until he's lying back and pushes his shirt up. "I've already seen you come, so this shouldn't be weird for you," he says gruffly, which has the desired result of Buck laughing and relaxing.

"Thanks, Eddie." He pulls down the waistband of his sweats a little, exposing the hip joint. Nothing looks wrong with it - in fact, it looks perfect, tough sinew and jutting bone and-

Eddie is a professional medic, damn it, not a thirsty schoolgirl.

He begins rubbing the deep heat into the hip joint, spreads it out a little lower and a little higher, fingers shaking a little as they're forced to dip below Buck's waistband. Buck doesn't say anything - in fact, his eyes are closed and he looks relaxed. Sleepy, even.

"What happened?" Eddie asks softly.

Buck cracks his eyes open. He hesitates.

"You don't have to tell me," Eddie murmurs, working the gel deeper into Buck's hip. He's pressing hard, and Buck groans, shifts minutely to press up. "That feel good?"

"Yeah," Buck sighs. "You have magic fingers, man."

Eddie absolutely does not blush.

"I got crushed by a truck," Buck says.

Eddie almost drops the tube. "You what?"

"I got crushed by a ladder truck," Buck says quietly. "I was stuck underneath it for a while. My leg was shattered. There's nothing wrong with my hip, really, but my hip is used to dragging around dead weight, now, taking the strain and all that."

"Wait, that was you?" Eddie asks. "On the news?"

"Yeah, that was me," Buck mumbles. "I worked so hard for physical therapy to get back to work that I ended up with a pulmonary embolism and more time off work."

"So that's how that happened."

"Yeah."

"You all clear now?"

"I think so. For the most part. I'll be on blood thinners... well, until they tell me not to be, basically."

Eddie nods. "That why you were at the hospital today?" he asks.

Buck winces. "Caught that, huh?"

"Yeah, I caught that," he says dryly. "Has the injury been playing up?"

"No. I um, I have a rod and four screws keeping everything in place. I have a scan once a month, just to make sure everything's okay. Checkups for the blood thinners." Buck's lips purse unhappily. "I hate hospitals."

Eddie sighs. It's a sentiment Christopher shares. Appointments, doctors, poking and prodding, tests - only for nothing to ever change. It's frustrating enough as an adult.

Eddie's done with the deep heat, but he's still rubbing the bone of Buck's hip idly. Buck rolls his head, looks at him sleepily. Eddie sees a shiver race up his body.

"Are you cold?" he asks.

"A little."

Eddie pulls the throw rug across the back of the couch down and tosses it over Buck's torso. It's Spider-Man themed, for Chris, but Buck doesn't seem to mind - he snuggles down into it and blinks again, slowly.

"Thanks. Feels lots better."

"No more pain?"

"Nope."

"Okay." Eddie pulls Buck's clothes back into place. It feels almost more intimate than undressing him earlier, in the heat of the moment.

He takes in Buck's form. Buck's legs are in Eddie's lap, head cushioned haphazardly on a tiny throw pillow that came with the couch, and the Spider-Man blanket is tucked up near his chin. He blinks owlishly, then smiles.

Eddie's heart swells with fondness. "You look cozy," he teases.

"I am." Buck yawns. "I should probably go before I fall asleep."

Eddie hesitates. Buck's said he's bad at asking for things, and he's not making any effort to move, despite what he said. His eyelashes are fluttering like he's trying to stay awake, though, head tilted towards the movie playing onscreen.

Would it be weird for him to offer that Buck stay when they were rutting against each other less than an hour ago?

Only as weird as Eddie rubbing deep heat into Buck's hip when he's an adult and fully capable of doing it himself, he supposes.

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks.

Buck turns to him. "Huh?"

"Do you want to stay the night?" Eddie asks. "You look comfortable, you've got the pain under control... Chris will be over the moon to see you in the morning."

It's a low blow, using Chris, but Buck grins and says, "Okay, yeah. I'll get the little man ready for school."

He looks at Eddie contemplatively. Then he says, "I think you should talk to Athena."

"What, the scary police sergeant who called me to come get your ass when you ate pot brownies?" Eddie asks disbelievingly. "She told me my life wouldn't be worth living if I hurt you. I'm not feeling super inclined to ask her for coffee."

Buck smiles. "Sounds like her. But I think she could help with Shannon."

Eddie sighs, lets his head flop back onto the couch. "I don't think anyone can help with Shannon," he murmurs.

"Look, the whole showing up unannounced, posting shit about you on Facebook, all the other crap - it's gotta be some kinda criminal offence, Eds. All I'm saying is that if you talk to Athena, she might be able to help. She's scary, sure, but if anyone's gonna know what it's like to be not white when it matters the most, it'll be her."

"You remember me saying that?" he asks ruefully.

Buck nods. "Sure. I'm white. One time someone told me I'm the whitest person they've ever met. I think it was meant as an insult. Anyway, I try to listen. Like, Hen is one of my best friends, you know? And Chim."

Eddie laughs. "I don't think you're quite the whitest person I've ever met," he says. "Pepa hasn't called you a gringo once."

"Would that be bad?"

"It'd be pretty not good, yeah."

Buck smiles. "I like it when you speak Spanish, you know."

His eyes are sleepy, still, but playful. Interested. Eddie now understands why Buck cheerfully refers to his "Buck 1.0 phase" as his slutty phase. It would be easy, so easy, to fall right back onto the couch and on top of Buck right now, kiss the lips that Buck has just licked softly.

"That look work on all your conquests?" Eddie teases.

"I'm about to find out," Buck replies.

"Dios mio," Eddie says, just to watch Buck's pupils blow. "You talk a big game. How's your hip, anyway? I didn't make it worse before?"

Buck shifts his leg. "It's just an awkward position to sit in for a long time," he says, and he's blushing a little. "For my hip and my leg. I wasn't too heavy?"

"Nope," Eddie says.

Buck stares. Wriggles a little. Then says, "If you don't leave the couch we're going for round two."

Eddie laughs, stands, and picks up the beer bottles. "Goodnight, Buck," he says.

~*~

When he wakes the next morning, he staggers out of the bedroom and straight to the living room.

Buck is asleep, rolled to face the back of the couch, with the Spider-Man blanket pulled over his shoulders.

Eddie lets him rest, gets breakfast started, and then goes to rouse Christopher for school. By the time his kid is out of the shower, Buck has dragged himself off the couch and has taken over making pancakes.

Eddie eyes him critically as he moves around the kitchen, but he isn't limping anymore. He does look tired, like maybe he didn't sleep that well, but he smiles at Eddie as he returns to the kitchen.

"Mornin'," he says.

"Couch okay?" Eddie checks.

Buck yawns, stretches, and a few bones crack audibly. Eddie winces. "Yeah," Buck drawls. "Slept like a rock after that deep heat."

He's still wearing Eddie's clothes, because his are in the wash, yet to go through the dryer.

"Morning, Buck!" Christopher says, leaning in for a hug.

Buck ruffles his hair. "Morning, buddy. Pancakes?"

"Yum!"

Buck plates up breakfast while Eddie gets ready for work. He feels a little tired, a little out of sorts, and very much like he and Buck should be discussing what happened last night, but Buck hasn't made mention of it so Eddie won't either.

It was a one off, Eddie reasons. It was a one off and now they can move on from it. Something weird happened after Shannon was around, and Eddie's not going to blame Buck when he had at least half a part in it.

~*~

It's a while before they see Buck again.

He does three night shifts in a row, twenty-hour ones, and the most they really get is a sporadic text or snapchat. In every one, Buck looks progressively more tired, but he assures Eddie he's making good use of the sleep rooms in the firehouse.

Shannon, as if sensing Buck's absence, shows up more than once. On the third occasion, with Eddie losing his mind and unsure of what he's going to do, Christopher tearfully asks if they can call Buck.

Eddie doesn't want to bother him at work, but he'll do anything for his kid, to make him happier, and so he allows Chris to dial.

Buck picks up on the fourth ring. "Hey," he says. He sounds tired, but pleased to hear from Eddie. "What's up?"

"Chris wanted to call you," Eddie says, as if he had no part in it.

"Really? Hey, buddy!"

"Hi, Buck."

Buck pauses, like he's picked up on something in Chris's voice. "You okay?"

"Mom came around again," Chris sniffles. "When will you come back?"

"I'm coming to Liam's party tomorrow, remember, pal?" Buck asks cheerfully. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much. My boss is working me into the ground, can you believe that?"

"Does he let you play?" Chris asks.

"No! No legos, no storytime, no nothing. Maybe you should come be my boss."

"Fire Marshal Diaz," Eddie grins. "That has a ring to it."

Christopher giggles, finally, and the last of the tears seem like they're drying up. Eddie stays on the line long after Christopher and Buck have finished talking.

"Thanks," Eddie says. "For making time for him."

"You kidding? This phone call made my week," Buck says, and he sounds so warm and so genuine that Eddie actually believes Buck means it.

Eddie smiles. "It's good to hear your voice," he says. "I missed you."

A long pause. "Really?" Buck asks timidly.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're both looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Well, I can't wait," Buck says cheerfully. "Spending time with my Diaz boys is exactly what I need after this week!"

Eddie's glad that Buck isn't on Facetime to see him blush.

~*~

The moment he opens the door the next day, he knows something is wrong.

Buck's hands are in his pockets, and while he readily hugs Eddie, he pulls away more quickly than usual and doesn't meet his eyes.

"How was work?" Eddie asks slowly. Buck's early, which is... odd, given that if anything Buck will usually be late because of overtime.

"Good," Buck says evasively, and Eddie is about to question him further, but he doesn't get the chance when Christopher comes rushing out of his bedroom to greet Buck. He watches on silently as Buck scoops Christopher up and spins him happily, a genuine grin on his face, and says, "So, where's this present that needs wrapping, little man?"

The party goes well. Eddie wasn't sure what to expect from everyone, but he's met with nothing but acceptance and Buck is universally loved - both by the parents in attendance and the children, who quickly realise that Buck doesn't mind being used as a jungle gym. Eddie sits with the adults while Buck gets into the sandpit, on the slide, and tosses the kids onto the trampoline, eliciting shrieks of laughter.

"Where did you find him?" Liam's mother sighs. She's in the middle of a messy, acrimonious marriage, something Eddie doesn't envy her for. He might be here with his fake boyfriend, but at least they don't hate each other.

"I fixed his truck at the garage," Eddie says. "He kept coming back."

"So sweet," she says. "He's wonderful with Chris."

Buck is carrying Christopher around on his shoulders while Christopher grabs at the monkey bars. Eddie's throat feels a little tight, seeing Buck make sure that Chris is just like everyone else - if only for today.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "He is."

"Cake!" Liam's father calls.

There's two cakes, because Liam's mother had insisted on vanilla and his father on chocolate, and Buck makes sure that Christopher gets a little of both before settling in on the table over from Eddie. He has a slice of the chocolate, and has ended up engaged in conversation with several of the mothers in attendance.

"Daddy," Christopher says. He's sitting on Eddie's lap, and he's got chocolate frosting all over his face.

Eddie wipes it with a napkin. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Bucky's not eating."

Eddie's almost singular focus on Buck redoubles, and he looks at Buck's plate. Sure enough, while Buck has picked at it enough to turn it into nothing more than crumbs and icing, he hasn't actually eaten any of it.

"Maybe he doesn't like chocolate," Eddie says, knowing that that's about as far as he can get from the truth but not wanting Christopher to worry about it.

"Everyone likes chocolate," Christopher says, but he's distracted in that moment by Liam showing up, glowing. He's a cute kid, brown hair and big brown eyes, and he beams up at Eddie.

"Thank you for the present, Mr. Diaz."

"You're welcome." Eddie's never going to get over being called Mr. Diaz. "Cool party."

"Yeah!" Liam looks at Buck. "Your boyfriend is really cool," he says seriously. "I want to be a firefighter when I grow up too!"

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah! Can Chris come play again?"

Eddie sets his son on the ground. "Off you go, mijo," he says fondly, watching as Chris hobbles away to go and play in the cubby house.

Something odd happens then. Buck notices Christopher headed towards the cubby house and is half out of his seat, mid-conversation, before Chris even gets there. He seems to catch himself at the last second and lowers back down uneasily, keeping one eye on the conversation and one on Christopher.

That... was weird, Eddie realises. Very weird.

He watches Buck for a while. He's tense, not that anyone else here would know him well enough to realise, but Eddie does. He looks desperate to escape the conversation, and Eddie wants to save him, only he can't think of any reason to go over.

Until he notices all the paper plates left on the outdoor table.

He stands, picks some up, and then taps Buck on the shoulder. Buck twists in his seat curiously.

"Wanna help me pack up the plates?" he asks.

"Oh, you don't need to do that, sweetie!" It's another of the moms - Eddie hasn't met her before, but there's no wedding ring and she's too close to Buck. Eddie's spine prickles with irritation.

"It's okay," Buck says quickly, standing. "We're eating everyone out of house and home, here. Gotta do something to earn our keep."

"Exactly," Eddie says cheerfully.

They collect the plates and take them indoors. Nobody else seems to be around, and Buck has finally relaxed a little. "Thanks for saving me," he says.

"Parent duties can be tiring," Eddie says sympathetically, noticing how tense Buck's shoulders are and reaching out to rub the back of his neck with one hand.

Buck just about melts under his touch, putting all the plates down and sighing softly. Eddie keeps rubbing, oddly relieved when the forced, cheerful smile on Buck's face gives way to a more melancholic expression.

"You okay?" he asks softly. "You didn't eat any cake."

"I'm okay," Buck says quickly. "I didn't want any."

It's a reasonable enough thing. But for some reason, it sends up a red flag for Eddie - he wants to question, but two other men enter the room, complaining loudly about having to spend their Saturday off at a family event, and he doesn't get the chance.

"You're lucky, Diaz," one of them says. "No more messing around with women. Must be a great household."

"Yeah," Eddie says absently, watching as Buck slips outside. "Lucky."

~*~

Christopher sleeps in the car on the way home, exhausted from playing with other kids and cake.

Buck is quiet too. He stares out the window as Eddie navigates them home, not really answering questions. He's holding onto the hand bracket with one hand, and the other is drumming frenetically on his leg. Eddie's never seen him like this, and he's worried.

When they finally pull into the driveway, Eddie is desperate to talk, which Buck seems to know and actively want to avoid - he almost leaps out of the front and wordlessly unbuckles Chris from his seat to carry him inside once they get there.

"Daddy?" Chris's little voice comes. His head is on Buck's shoulder, but he reaches for Eddie.

Eddie smiles, takes Christopher, and boosts him to carry him properly. "Hi, mijo."

"Will you tell me a story before bed?" Chris yawns.

"Sure."

He tucks Christopher in and reads him a story, noting that Buck has disappeared. He can see the other man's truck from Chris's bedroom window, knows he hasn't left, but is a little thrown off all the same.

"Where's Bucky?" Chris yawns.

"He's in the shower," Eddie says absently. He doesn't stop to consider that Chris might notice that the water isn't running.

"Okay. Tell him goodnight?"

"I will." He kisses Christopher's head. "Sleep tight, kiddo."

He finds Buck in the bathroom.

The door is shut, but when Eddie knocks hesitantly, Buck's voice says, "Come in," and he enters, finding Buck sat on the edge of the bathtub.

His shoulders are curled inwards like he's trying to look smaller. He looks scared.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks quietly. "You okay?"

Buck peers around him. "Where's Chris?" he queries, and Eddie's surprised to hear his voice wobble.

"He's in bed," Eddie says softly, edging inside and closing the door. "I told him you were having a shower. He's not waiting up."

Buck nods, looking down.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks again, gently.

Buck glances up at him. "I got pinned today," he says. "At work. I got pinned and I nearly couldn't get out."

Eddie sucks in a breath. Buck had told him he was pinned by a truck, resulting in the injury to his leg. "Buck," he breathes. "Why didn't you-"

"I just wanted to shake it off and be normal for the party," Buck says, voice wobbling. "I was trying but - I was weird, wasn't I? I was acting weird. I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm really sorry."

The almost frantic apologies make him uneasy, and he scoots closer. "You don't have anything to apologise for," he says. "I'm sorry. I knew something was wrong, I just didn't want to say so in front of everyone."

Buck sniffs, rubs at his eyes. He's hunched further with Eddie's proximity.

"Hey," Eddie says, and reaches for Buck's face before he really stops to think about it. He cups Buck's face between both hands - he feels cold, Eddie realises with a shock. Cold, and also trembly. "Hey. It's okay. You're not there anymore, Buck."

Buck licks his lips, swallows. "Sometimes it feels like I never got out," he whispers. "Like I'm still pinned under the truck."

God, does Eddie know that feeling. Waking up drowning in sweat, reliving the deaths of his squadron over and over again, convinced he's back in month-long unwashed army fatigues with flies biting at the sweat on his face, convinced that if he rolls over he'll find sand and blood on either side of him. He gets it, and it's a scary place to be.

But he had Christopher, and he had abuela, and he had his entire family. Buck, who is shivering in his bathroom and looking away, looking ashamed - clearly didn't have many people, if anyone.

He grips Buck's neck a little harder, concerned for Buck's mental state and determined to keep him present.

"Hey," he says again. "Look at me."

Buck looks up, meets his eyes. They're red, and he looks about a second away from crying.

"Dios, cariño," Eddie whispers, and pulls Buck into a hug. "Está bien, te tengo..."

Buck gives no indication that he understands what Eddie's saying, so Eddie forces himself to speak English instead of Spanish (he always defaults to Spanish when he's worried or scared, and Buck is bringing out both those emotions in him right now) and says, "It's okay, Buck, I got you. You're not under the truck anymore."

Buck tucks his face against Eddie's neck, shaking minutely, and holds on with one hand. Buck's left shoulder is collapsed inwards so that Eddie can totally envelop him. It makes him almost small, and not for the first time Eddie thinks that this isn't a position someone would know unless they've practiced being small their whole lives.

They sit like that for a while. Eddie strokes Buck's back gently, keeps talking to him, occasionally slipping back into Spanish. Buck doesn't seem to care which language he's speaking, just stays huddled in Eddie's arms, breathing hitching quietly. With Buck silent, Eddie has time to feel guilty - he knew something was wrong the moment he saw Buck, so why didn't he say anything then? He shouldn't have made Buck go to the party when he clearly wasn't up for it. God, it's not even Buck's job - they're not even really together, and he's still taking on all of Eddie's baggage like it's his own to carry.

He's roused from his thoughts when Buck shifts, heaving a shaky sigh, and his hand clenches in Eddie's shirt. Eddie tucks him closer, feeling uneasy. He doesn't like that Buck didn't feel like he could tell Eddie he wasn't okay. He doesn't like that Buck went to the party - a loud, high-adrenaline, high-energy environment - when he needed space to decompress. He doesn't like any of it. 

Eventually, Buck pulls away, slowly. He's obviously been crying, but he seems more present, and he feels warmer.

"Hey, Buck," Eddie says softly.

Buck smiles weakly. "Hey, Eddie."

He swipes at his eyes, looks down at his hands.

"You doing better?" Eddie asks carefully.

Buck nods wordlessly.

"Okay." Eddie licks his lips. He thinks of what people did for him after he came home and the world had been turned inside-out and he kept hearing shells and screams for months on end. His abuela made him food, and he was never alone. He knows that much. And Buck - Buck looks thinner than he usually does. When did that happen? Why didn't Eddie notice before now?

There's something going on. But he's not going to bring it up now, not with Buck this fragile.

"Look," he says hesitantly, and Buck peers up at him. "I don't want you to be alone tonight. Okay? So how about I make us some food, and you can crash here?"

Buck hesitates. Eddie worries for a split second that he's overstepped as fake boyfriend - even though he's fairly sure that coming against Buck's ass and having him stay that night was overstepping far more than this - then dismisses that thought and begins to tackle it as a friendship thing. Then he notices how Buck looks so desperately like he wants to say yes, and also like he's going to say no.

This is different, Eddie recognises distantly. Something about this situation is different. He can't pinpoint what, but asking Buck to say now when he's this vulnerable feels very different to asking him when they'd just made each other come.

"Before you start," Eddie says, "it wouldn't be an imposition. Christopher loves having you here. So do I. You're supposed to be coming back tomorrow anyway. So how about you stay here tonight? You can always change your mind."

Buck nods, wipes his eyes again. "If... that's okay...?"

"More than okay." Eddie can't help but grin, knowing that once Buck has calmed down, he's unlikely to change his mind. "I'll make us something. What do you feel like?"

He doesn't miss the way Buck balks at the idea of food. "Pizza," he decides - it's calorie dense, which means if Buck only eats a little it'll still suffice. "I'll order."

It's after he's placed the order that he realises he just knows what Buck likes. He tries not to have a small am-I-gay episode over that, especially given that Buck has finally exited the bathroom, walking slowly and quietly, like he's trying not to spook anyone.

His eyes are still red, eyelashes wet and spiky. He doesn't exactly look stable, at the moment, and Eddie doesn't know what to do. He's never known what to do even with his own tears. He can't help but feel like he's letting Buck down somehow. He's missing something, he knows he's missing something, and he can't know without Buck telling him what it is.

But he doesn't know how far to push. This is why he and Shannon split up. Because Shannon needed him and needed him to push her to tell him what was wrong, and Eddie just wanted to stop playing guessing games. He wanted communication. Not this.

Buck isn't Shannon, he reminds himself.

When the pizza arrives, he tips the delivery guy and takes it back to the living room with plates. Buck looks tired, but he's settled into the couch and he at least tries to smile when Eddie enters.

Eddie loads up Buck's plate with pizza and passes it over. Buck eats, but not with his usual gusto - Eddie doesn't have it in him to feel bad that Buck is only eating because he's being forced to. For a while, they're silent.

Then Eddie says, "Are you injured?"

Buck blinks and looks up. "Huh?"

"You said you got pinned," Eddie hedges, not wanting to set Buck off or make him upset. "Are you hurt?"

"Oh. No, I'm not hurt. Just... got a bit freaked out." Buck looks down at his pizza; he's only eaten three slices from the whole thing. "Sorry, I'm not really hungry."

"That's okay." Eddie's surprised and glad that Buck is actually able to be forthcoming with how he feels; it's foreign to Eddie, who bottles things up until they explode. "How about I put it in the fridge?"

Buck nods, and Eddie takes the remaining slices, puts them in the box and stuffs them into the fridge along with all the other leftovers. When he gets back, Buck is sitting in the middle of the couch, with his left arm extended along the back.

Eddie hesitates where he's standing. He knows Buck is affectionate, especially when he's sleepy, and that unless he's with Eddie or at work, he spends a lot of time on his own. He wonders if Buck is touch-starved like he is, if this is something he could work for both of them.

He sits down, shuffles over, and presses his thigh to Buck's. If he tells himself it's just to see what Buck will do with the proximity, with Eddie initiating contact, well, that's no one's business but his.

Buck sighs, drops his arm from the back of the couch to Eddie's shoulders, and squeezes him in tight, turning his face to Eddie's shoulder and nuzzling his temple. This is the point at which Eddie's brain makes like a faulty circuit board and fries itself. He's not sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this.

"You're warm," Buck mumbles, like he's not currently making like a koala clinging to a tree. His arm is deliciously heavy around Eddie's shoulders, and he's suddenly reminded - for all that Buck is generally so harmless and gentle that he appears smaller than what he really is - that Buck's significantly broader and heavier than him.

"Glad to be of service," he says, voice a little strangled. He feels Buck smile into his cheekbone, and Eddie is confused - sure, he stopped paying Buck, but they've been doing the fake boyfriend thing still to keep Shannon off his case, but-

There's no reason for this. There's absolutely no reason for them to be snuggling like this, no Instagram photo to post or Facebook status update or - this isn't even their regular date night, and what the hell is Eddie doing?

Buck's grip has loosened somewhat during Eddie's internal monologue. He's breathing a little softer, a little more evenly. When Eddie moves his head a little, just to look, Buck's eyes are closed. He looks like he's falling asleep.

His shoulder will feel like death if he sleeps like that, which is absolutely Eddie's reasoning when he shifts, quietly and slowly, out from underneath him. Buck doesn't stir, and Eddie thinks guiltily that he must be tired to not even register the movement.

He lays Buck down gently and tosses a blanket over him. Stands, rubs his own face, then picks up his laptop and heads to the bedroom. He'll leave Buck to sleep.

He flops into bed and opens up the laptop, putting headphones in and hesitating for only a second before typing _join lafd_ into the search bar again. He's only ever made it to this point, so far, but now he forces himself to click the hiring process tab at the top.

He wants more. He can feel it, deep down in his bones. He needs more than the garage and the lack of responsibility. He needs change. Teamwork. A family again.

He pokes around the website for half an hour, idly listening to music, before yawning and switching to some mind-numbing show on Netflix. He's not sure why any blonde girl that attractive would ever live in a house with no blinds, but he can get behind the unbearably creepy premise of a stalker.

Even though he basically already has one.

He's woken to a loud crash sometime later, totally disoriented and not realising he's fallen asleep. He's up and moving out of reflex, from his training, immediately beelining for Christopher's room.

Christopher - who could sleep through almost anything - is still knocked out, the stuffed dragon Buck got him under one arm.

Buck.

The living room is empty, Buck's blanket abandoned on the ground, when he gets there, and Eddie panics. What if Shannon's actually really lost it and she's kidnapped Buck somehow? What if he's dead or bleeding out in the bathtub? What if there's an intruder and they got to Buck first because-

The bathroom light is on, and Eddie pushes the door open to see Buck, leaning over the sink, face dripping with water. He's panting like he's run ten miles without stopping, head down.

"Buck?" Eddie breathes, putting a hand on his back.

Buck shudders underneath his touch. "Sorry," he whispers.

"What for? What's going on?" Eddie takes in the whiteness of Buck's face, how red-rimmed his eyes are, and feels the tremors racing through him. He remembers the crash, the blanket on the ground.

"You had a nightmare," he realises out loud.

"Yeah." Buck splashes his face again. "I'm sorry, Eds. I'll go home." He straightens up a little, trying to smile and just looking like he'll bawl. "Don't wanna wake you again."

"Don't be dumb," Eddie says immediately. That sound must've been Buck's body hitting the floor. "Stay here. You can't drive right now - it's two in the morning and you're tired."

Buck rubs his eyes. "Not like I'll sleep anyway, so I might as well not keep you guys awake."

"Christopher's sound asleep," Eddie says dryly. "He only wakes up when he can tell I'm trying to sleep in. I wasn't really sleeping anyway." He's not sure where that lie comes from, only that it seems to ease some of the awful uncertainty in Buck's features. "I was watching Netflix."

Buck's still leaning on the counter. He's meeting Eddie's eyes in the mirror, and Eddie's hand is still on his back. It's partially for comfort, but it's also partially to ensure that he can measure whether or not Buck's calming down.

"What were you watching?" Buck asks tentatively.

"You," Eddie says, and smiles when Buck's brows crinkle in confusion. "Not you, you. It's the name of the series. It's pretty good." He gestures to the living room. "If you're really gonna be awake anyway, keep me company?"

Buck doesn't move for a moment, but then he splashes his face again, stands up properly, and turns to Eddie. Eddie throws a towel at his face so he can dry it.

"Sure?" Buck asks.

"Yeah, of course. I've got tomorrow off."

"Okay. Yeah, I'll keep you company."

Sometimes, Eddie muses, they're very different. But sometimes, they're alike - and giving Buck a chance to pretend that this is for Eddie and not himself, even when they're both aware of how flimsy an excuse it is, makes him feel good, if only for a while.

They settle back down on the couch, with Buck lying on his side. He keeps a careful two inches of space between Eddie's thigh and his toes. Eddie starts the show without saying anything about Buck's sudden need for space.

They sit there for a while, like that. At some point, Buck seems to lose interest and rolls over, legs crooked, and tugs the blanket back around himself. Eddie's pretty absorbed in the show - and honestly not feeling enthusiastic about leaving Buck alone anyway, so he stays. Stays and ends up watching two full episodes before remembering why he's here in and not in bed.

Eddie looks over to Buck.

He's dead asleep, blanket tucked awkwardly around his frame, head tilted towards the back of the couch. His mouth is slightly open, and his legs are crooked - even in sleep, he's very carefully only taking up the space he's allotted.

Which is ridiculous. Buck is six foot two, and sleeping like that has to be cramped and uncomfortable.

He pulls Buck's sock-clad feet and lower legs into his lap gently, trying not to wake him. Buck sighs in his sleep like it's a relief to finally stretch out, shuffles until the blanket covers him better. Eddie smiles.

He keeps watching the show. It's only when Netflix starts playing a new trailer that Buck rouses himself, obviously because of the change in pitch from the T.V.

"Eds?" he asks quietly.

"Hey, Buckaroo."

Buck blinks sleepily. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep on you." He looks down, sees his legs on Eddie's lap, and blushes right to the tips of his ears. "Especially not actually on you, man, I'm sorry."

Buck's come on his chest before. This is all weird. They've got it backwards. Eddie didn't think it'd be weird, because it wasn't the morning after, but now it is somehow and he doesn't know what to do with that. Buck is more comfortable riding Eddie like a horse on a merry-go-round than he is sleeping, and that's... wrong.

"Don't be," Eddie says lightly. "I put your legs there. You looked uncomfortable."

What Eddie's trying to say there, what he's too scared to say, is _you're allowed to take up space. You are allowed to be here. I want you to be here and I don't want you to be scared of being too much._

Buck regards him sleepily. He's not trying to move now. He looks relaxed.

"You called me sweetheart," he says.

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it, thinking back to when he comforted Buck in the bathroom. "I was speaking Spanish," he says slowly. "I thought you didn't understand most of it. How did you...?"

"I don't know much Spanish, but I know some. I know that."

Eddie rubs his face. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," he says.

"You didn't." Buck rubs his eyes. He doesn't seem like he's in any rush to move, now that he knows he's welcome in Eddie's space. "It was kinda nice, actually. Haven't... had someone care in a really, really long time."

Eddie had suspected as much, but it still hurts him to hear.

Buck moves his legs before Eddie can speak. "It's late," he yawns. "You should go to bed."

Buck seems alright, for now, so Eddie hesitantly gets up. "Alright," he says. "You need anything?"

"No," Buck mumbles. "Thanks though."

Eddie gets halfway down the hallway before finding himself rooted to the spot.

_I can't leave him there_ , he thinks blankly, and the thought renders it impossible for him to move into his bedroom the way he should. _I can't leave him there._

It's silly. Buck is a grown man who has fallen asleep on Eddie's couch enough times to have brought up gripes if he'd had any, and he hasn't. Buck is right down the hall. Buck is fine, Eddie saw to that himself.

But he can't make himself move, and he can't make himself leave Buck on the couch.

He turns back, walks into the living room, and leans over, puts his hand on Buck's shoulder. "Hey," he murmurs.

"Hmm?" Buck blinks sleepy eyes open. "Eds?"

"C'mon," Eddie says, grabbing Buck's blanket.

"Wh - yeah, okay, I... d'you know where my keys are?" Buck sounds quietly heartbroken. "I'll go home."

"Jesus, Buck," Eddie says, upset. "I'm not kicking you out." He knows now that Buck jumping to that conclusion isn't his fault - it isn't him as a person, it's something in Buck's past - but he still feels guilty as sin for not making himself clearer. "I don't want you to sleep on the couch."

Buck sits, then stands. He follows Eddie down the hall. "Your room?" he asks. "I... I don't mind sleeping on the couch, Eddie."

"If you're comfortable," Eddie says, "I want you to stay in here with me tonight."

Buck licks his lips, then nods. Eddie realises he's holding Buck's hand and uses it, pulls him in a little closer. "Get comfortable," he says, gently, now that he knows Buck won't run. "It's okay. I want you here."

Buck sighs shakily and pulls off his shirt, then hesitates at his jeans.

"I have scars on my leg," he admits. "From the truck. They're not nice to look at."

"I don't care," Eddie says instantly, and he really doesn't.

Buck takes his jeans off. He's got long, long legs, impossibly long almost, and a broad, strong chest. Big arms. He's wearing boxers, and Eddie can see that he does have scars on his leg. He was a field medic, and he itches to ask, to know, but he doesn't. He looks Buck in the eye and says,

"Comfortable?"

Buck looks more at ease. He nods, and climbs into the side of the bed Eddie hasn't taken up. He stretches out, sighs, rolls onto his belly and puts his hands under the pillow. He turns his head to look at Eddie.

"Thanks for today, Eddie," Buck mumbles. "It sucked. But you made it less sucky."

Eddie whispers a laugh at that. "You're welcome."

He feels twisted. He feels confused, hollowed out, brimming with an emotion so nameless it makes him feel lost and adrift. Buck sleeps, but Eddie lies awake for a long time.

~*~

Buck sleeps soundly throughout the night, and Eddie only wakes up because Christopher is peeking into the room.

"Good morning, Dad," he whispers.

Thank God for his relatively easy to deal with, respectful kid. "Good morning, bud," he whispers back, and rolls hurriedly out of bed. Doing so means freeing himself from Buck, who has clung to him like a koala overnight, but he manages.

"Buck slept over!" Even whispering, Chris's voice conveys his excitement. "Can we do fun stuff today?"

"Sure." Eddie hustles him out of the bedroom. "But Buck's tired, okay? So let's let him sleep, and we'll make him breakfast."

They try to make breakfast quietly, but, well, they're Diaz men at heart, and nothing about them is quiet. Eddie's not sure if it's the noise or the smell of pancakes that wakes Buck, but something does, and he limps out into the kitchen looking sleep-ruffled and content.

But he's limping, all the same.

"Do I smell pancakes?" he asks. He's put on a pair of Eddie's sleep shorts, but left his shirt off.

Before Eddie can answer, Christopher points to Buck's bad leg - the one he's limping on - and says, "You match me!"

Oh, fuck, what was that Eddie said about having a respectful kid? He opens his mouth to apologise, but before he can, Buck smiles and kneels down.

"Yup. Sure do. I've got one metal rod and four screws in there."

"You're like Iron Man," Chris says in wonderment.

Buck laughs, pulls Chris in for a hug, right there on the floor. "Well, I don't think I'm that cool."

"You're pretty cool," Chris says thoughtfully. "You're cooler than Dad."

"Hey!" Eddie says, mouth agape, as Buck bursts into another fit of laughter. "Mijo, go get dressed."

"Okay, Dad!"

Chris leaves, using the wall as support. Buck stands up and smiles.

"Don't even think about saying sorry," he says. "Kids are curious. It's fine."

"You're limping," Eddie points out.

"Sometimes I do," Buck admits. "When it's cold or I had a bad night. Doc says it's psychosomatic mostly. Nothing's actually wrong with my leg anymore. My brain just thinks there is. It's my hip that's the problem now."

Eddie nods. "I made pancakes," he says, and Buck looks relieved to move on from the topic. "I might've burnt them though."

Buck steps up to the counter, smiling tiredly. Even with how hard he crashed in Eddie's bed last night, he knows Buck didn't get a lot of sleep. "How do you burn pancakes?" he asks gently. "All you gotta do is flip them."

"I suck, I guess," Eddie says, and Buck laughs.


	8. Uncovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, big love to everyone who has commented! in this chapter, eddie has some realisations and some of buck's behaviour is explained.
> 
> the next one might be awhile away as i've only written 1000 words for it lol but i'm not going to have time to update this weekend!

The doorbell rings just after eight in the morning.

Eddie, who still hasn't learned his lesson, goes to open it, only to find Shannon on the other side. She draws up to her full height.

"I want to see Christopher," she says.

"People in hell want Slurpees," Eddie fires back. "Christopher is at church with abuela."

"Really?" Shannon asks suspiciously.

"Yes, really."

"Eds?" Buck calls, entering the hallway wearing nothing other than a pair of sweats. He's got an impressive physique, and Eddie feels a little smug and a little annoyed when Shannon's eyes run up and down his body.

"He's staying the night now?"

"Sure is."

Buck - who look uncomfortable with Shannon's sudden attention - steps into the kitchen. Shannon narrows her eyes at Eddie.

"He really isn't here?"

"He really isn't."

"Fine. But I want to see him, Eddie."

She leaves, and Eddie closes the door. He leans against it for a moment, feeling helpless and very much like he'd like to run away, until he hears Buck get a pan out from the cupboard.

When he joins Buck in the kitchen, he's making eggs. "I'm curious," Buck says.

"About?" Eddie's definitely not watching the light and how it accentuates all the muscles in Buck's back.

"Well, you said Shannon has money." Buck's chopping up peppers and mushrooms now. "Right? Or at least her parents do?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, if she's really got money why doesn't she just take you to court for access to Christopher?" Buck asks. He tosses the vegetables into another frypan. "She keeps showing up demanding to see him but she never pushes it, you know what I mean? She could. If she has the money."

Truthfully, Eddie hadn't considered that. He ruminates over it as Buck plates up scrambled eggs and puts it in front of him, then makes coffee. He's got dimples at the base of his spine that Eddie's somehow failed to notice.

"Huh," Eddie says.

"What?"

"Nothing, just... you're right. She could've taken me to court by now." He chews his lip. "I wonder why she hasn't?"

"Maybe she's... not that bad?" Buck asks, then winces. "Sorry. Trying to give her the benefit of the doubt here."

"I guess one of us has to," Eddie says dryly. "Thanks for breakfast."

Buck shrugs, shoveling down his eggs with gusto. It's nice to see, especially after he was so off his food yesterday at the party, and didn't really eat much of the pizza. Eddie wants to ask if he's feeling better, but he really does seem to be.

"I'm sorry," he says instead.

"What for?" Buck asks thickly.

"All the drama. All the... well, the everything. I'd understand if you don't want to do this fake boyfriend thing anymore. It's hard enough dealing with ex-partners and kids when you're actually in love with someone. And you know... you're not even getting anything out of it anymore."

Buck shrugs. He looks a little pained. "It's not hard. Not when it's you and Chris. I like being around you guys."

"Buck." Eddie rubs his face. "An ex-wife who you said is stalking you and a kid that has cerebral palsy and you're caught in the middle. There's no way that doesn't wear you down."

"Didn't say that," Buck says. "I mean, the stalking part isn't great, I'll give you that, but hey. I signed up for this, literally. But Christopher?" He shakes his head. "Man, your kid inspires me, Eddie. He's such a sweet little guy, and he never lets anything get him down, you know? He just keeps going no matter what. I wish I was more like him."

Eddie smiles a little. Buck never fails to make him feel better.

"Point is," Buck says, "whatever you're going through, I can take it."

He says it like it'll never not be true, and Eddie wants so badly to believe him. But Shannon said the same thing, and look how that turned out for him.

He pushes the thought aside. "Let's do something today," he says.

"Like what?" Buck asks, perking up.

"What do you feel like?"

"There's a new Marvel movie out! Or - ice skating? No, I'll fall over. Never mind. Uh - the pier? The fair maybe? Or-"

Eddie lets him go, realising he doesn't care what they're doing as long as Buck's happy. It's a frightening realisation, and Eddie pushes it away desperately.

Thinking like this got him in trouble in the first place.

~*~

"You're a mess. This is like being out with Christopher."

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment and move on," Buck says cheerfully, licking his wrist where there's ice cream dripping down it. "At least you don't have to carry me."

"I could take you," Eddie says.

Buck grins, cocky, and steps in front of him, walking backwards. "You, carry me?" he asks. "I don't think so."

Eddie shoves him, and Buck laughs, spinning back around to walk properly. The weather is beginning to cool as the festive season approaches, and Buck is making the most of the final warm days with ice cream.

Eddie reaches over, grabs his wrist, and brings the cone to his mouth, taking a bite. Buck splutters indignantly at the motion.

"What, you don't want to share?" Eddie asks.

"What kind of a monster bites ice cream?" Buck whines, eyeing the gouge in his ice cream cone mournfully.

"Monsters who have little kids and know that they might only get one chance," Eddie says, grinning. "Which, you know. You're an overgrown child, so-"

"Whatever," Buck says, but he's also smiling.

As they walk, they pass a muay thai gym, causing Eddie to pause. He hasn't sparred or fought in a long time, but sometimes he gets the itch - to let out all the aggression and stop being so damn careful, to really cut loose. To feel.

Buck follows his gaze. "You spar?" he asks slowly.

"Not anymore. I used to." Eddie can hear sounds from within, feels it tug at his gut. God, what he wouldn't give to do it again - but it's expensive, and he has Christopher to think about. Christopher will always come first, but Eddie wishes occasionally that he had time to himself, too.

He catches Buck spinning uncomfortably, looking for the closest crossing. "Do you?" he asks.

"No," Buck says, too quickly.

He wants to keep walking, Eddie can see that much, so he continues down the pathway. Buck has finished his cone and has shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at the pavement so pensively that he nearly runs into a metal post.

"My ex took me once," Buck finally elaborates. "I might've liked it, you know, if I'd... chosen it myself. But I didn't like how it made him act."

Him, Eddie notes with some degree of surprise. So that confirms that Buck is at least genuinely interested in men.

"Sorry," Eddie says sympathetically. "You don't seem-"

"Like I'd like fighting? I don't," Buck says quickly. "Even if it's fake. I mean, I tried out for Navy SEALS but... it would've been like that, you know? Having to hurt people. So I ended up in the LAFD."

"You tried out for the SEALS?"

"I passed the physical test." Buck shrugs. "But I had issues with... I don't know, turning off my emotions. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to. So I dropped out and did this instead. Best decision I've ever made." Buck winces. "Maybe one of the only good ones."

Eddie can't stand that sad, slightly regretful look on Buck's face. He swings his arm around Buck's shoulders, which is a little awkward from Buck being taller, and says, "I'm pretty great, and you decided to stick around with me."

Buck wrinkles his nose. "I mean, you're okay. Chris is the cool one."

They're back to equilibrium, jabbing each other verbally and horsing around, but Buck doesn't make to move out from Eddie's arm and Eddie doesn't particularly feel like moving it.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get some lunch."

~*~

"So," Eddie says, "you said awhile ago that Shannon was stalking you."

Buck nods. He's tearing happily into a burger and fries, Eddie's shout - this, Eddie thinks ruefully, is one of the downsides to having a fake boyfriend instead of a fake girlfriend. Shannon never finished all her food, which meant Eddie got a meal and a half, but Buck is eating like it's going to be taken away from him.

"Oh yeah," Buck says, after swallowing his mouthful. "So it was weird, I kept getting phone calls from unknown numbers and someone knocked on my door once, but when I went to open it no one was there. I got a security system installed-"

"Whoa, whoa, back up," Eddie says. "We made a real quick jump from a doorbell ditch to a security system."

"Maddie made me," Buck says, very matter-of-factly. "Anyway the sensor light kept coming on but not catching anyone there. That's weird right? Does it sound like something Shannon might do?"

Eddie steals one of Buck's fries, ignoring the exaggerated pout he receives afterwards. Shannon is sort of insane, and a little too aggressive for Eddie's liking, but would she show up to Buck's apartment multiple times? Would she even know where he lives?

"You know," he says, "as much as she's annoying enough for me to hire a fake boyfriend, I actually don't think she's that far gone."

"Really?" Buck asks, and Eddie shrugs. "Huh. Must be the delivery guy getting the wrong door."

Eddie feels a little uneasy with how quickly Buck brushes it off. "You're not worried?"

"No. I mean, it's an apartment building, right? It'd be easy to get the wrong door. Besides, I got the security system now, thanks to Maddie being paranoid."

Buck doesn't seem worried at all, which only makes Eddie want to worry more. Buck is a genuinely good, warm person - one that very much exudes vulnerability despite his best efforts, and can probably be taken advantage of. It's not that Eddie thinks he's weak - it's the opposite, really; Eddie's never been brave enough to live and think out loud, and Buck is. It's just that he knows Buck would go out of his way to help anyone, and other people can see that.

It hits Eddie like a truck as Buck happily tears apart from lettuce leaves from his salad and rolls them up before eating them - Buck's on a website where he has fake partners, fake partners who have very real access to him and his life. Eddie's not the first. He won't even be the last.

He stabs at his chicken. "So how many fake partners have you had?" he asks.

Buck - who is nibbling on his lettuce in a way that suggests no one ever taught him how to eat a damn salad properly - blinks. His eyes rake Eddie's body, quickly, and a look of apprehension settles over him.

Eddie had sort of forgotten about Buck's unnerving knack for correctly reading someone within seconds. He must see something he doesn't like, because he leans back a little.

"Um, not that many fake relationships," Buck says. "Plenty of fake dates. Why?"

"No reason," Eddie mutters.

Buck's mouth twitches like he's trying not to smile. "Well," he says, "whatever it is, don't take it out on your chicken."

~*~

Eddie is a man obsessed.

His flimsy excuse is that he's worried for Buck's safety, given what Buck mentioned at lunch. His much less flimsy excuse and the one he doesn't want to resort to is that he doesn't want a fake ex to ruin his fake relationship so that his ex wife doesn't get wind of anything.

Christ, how did his life get this damn complicated?

He only manages to find a few photos of any fake ex, and she's a middle-aged blonde lady called Abby with kind blue eyes and a soft, warm smile. Eddie wonders what about her life would necessitate a fake boyfriend half her age.

He gets his opportunity to ask when he's at Buck's for dinner two nights later. Of course, by this point Eddie had become so singlemindedly obsessed with figuring out who Buck's fake exes are that he's ready to kick the door in with his haste to talk.

"So," he says, "you do fake boyfriends and fake girlfriends?"

Buck regards him bemusedly over his beer bottle. "You're really hung up on this. If you want to know something, you can ask me."

Eddie flounders. He's not used to that kind of honesty from anyone, let alone previous partners, and he feels like he should've seen it coming, especially from Buck. "How come Abby is the only one on your Facebook still?" he asks.

Buck's face goes all soft and unhappy; he looks down. "Abby wasn't fake," he mumbles. "She was real."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it. That would explain why she's still on Buck's profile, then, and why he looks reluctant to talk about it.

"Sorry," Eddie says. "I shouldn't have assumed."

Buck shrugs limply. "She left," he says, and he sounds a little hollowed out in a way that startles Eddie and reminds him of the night of Liam's birthday party, with Buck curled into him like he was trying to hide. He steps closer.

"Why did she leave?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Her mom died." Buck shakes his head. "It was really rough on her. She said she hadn't been able to see herself in a while, because all she saw when she looked in the mirror was what other people needed from her. She went to Dublin. The messages got further and further in between, and I couldn't wait anymore."

"Sounds like you were lonely," Eddie says, gently. Buck nods, then straightens up.

"Sorry, man. Didn't mean to get all mopey on you."

Eddie shrugs. "I mean, you've been putting up with Shannon, so..."

It must be the right thing to say, or at least it puts them back on even footing, because Buck relaxes and even smiles. "Seriously, man," he says. "If you want to know something about me, you can ask. I don't mind."

"What if you don't want to answer?" And Eddie has no idea why he's fucking like this, why he meets every concession with a challenge, why Buck's ability to be open and genuine almost feels like an insult in the face of the reason Eddie's here in the first place. He wouldn't blame Buck for deciding he's certifiably bird-box crazy and leaving.

Buck doesn't. He blinks once, slowly, and says, "If I don't want to answer I'll just tell you I'm not comfortable."

"Because it's that easy," Eddie mumbles into his beer bottle.

"It can be that easy," Buck retorts, frowning. "Eds, what's wrong?"

Eddie paces. "You sound like it's easy for you," he says helplessly. "You act like being hurt doesn't make you want to hide. I just don't - Buck, I'm not like you. I'm not. So I don't understand it."

Buck watches him for a moment, then puts down his beer bottle and walks closer, his head slightly down and looking up through his eyelashes. They're doing that fluttery thing again, like a hummingbird, and Eddie's eyes track the movement helplessly.

"I can show you?" Buck asks, only it almost comes out as a plea.

Eddie's frozen. How the hell did they get here? And Buck - Buck might be the one approaching, the one talking, but Eddie has no doubt in his mind that the ball is in his court. If he takes even a step back, if he flinches, says no, indicates in any way he doesn't want this - Buck will stop.

But he's frozen. He feels hot with the memory of Buck squirming in his lap, some one-ninety deliciously heavy pounds of muscle and blonde hair and soft skin, and he can't make himself back away.

"Eddie?" Buck asks quietly.

Eddie pulls Buck closer by his shirt and kisses him bodily, feels Buck's body melt in what can only be described as submission, and he nudges closer to Eddie's body. His hand comes to sit on Eddie's waist, and he shuffles his shoulders a little.

He's making himself Eddie's height, accommodating for the extra inches, letting Eddie lead. Vulnerable, vulnerable, dangerously vulnerable. Reckless.

Eddie grabs him, surges forward, and backs Buck towards the couch. If Buck is going to be reckless with himself Eddie will just have to watch out for him.

Buck hits the couch and sits down on it with a vaguely surprised huff, and Eddie's on him, tilting him until Buck's lying on the couch and Eddie's lying on top of him. He gets a hand around the back of Buck's neck and it's almost a mirror image of that day Maddie came over, with Buck leaning up into him and gasping into his mouth.

Buck's hands are sliding up his back, under his shirt. Eddie leans back to take his off, then helps Buck with his. Buck's tinted pink from the chest up, which is oddly endearing. He doesn't have the same muscle or bone structure Eddie does - Eddie is narrow and sharp, but Buck is wide, barrel-chested, with formidably large biceps and thickness in his waist that Eddie wants to grab at.

He adjusts, rolls a little, and Buck moves with him - hitches his legs until his thighs are squeezed around Eddie's hips, and God Eddie has never been this hard in his life. Buck's kissing him smooth and soft like he's trying to tell Eddie something, and Eddie wants to crawl inside his skin and stay there.

He grinds his hips down, and Buck rises to meet him. It's almost a challenge while letting Eddie stay in control, and it's delicious, the way Buck knows intuitively what he needs. Buck could throw him off, probably fairly easily with legs this powerful, but he doesn't.

He reaches down, gets a hand under Buck's left knee, and hitches it up higher. Buck grunts - an unpleasant, surprised noise - and Eddie pulls back a little, panting.

"Did I hurt you?" He might be so goddamn hard he could come on command, but he's not far gone enough to not check Buck's okay. He'd almost forgotten that the left leg is the bad leg.

"It's fine," Buck breathes, and even though it's forcing his body into a crunch position, he's maintaining a distance so small to Eddie's face that Eddie can hear his breath trembling. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," Eddie says.

"Okay," Buck breathes, tugging Eddie down again and slotting their mouths together. The kissing has turned desperate, and even while Buck squeezes Eddie with his legs - and Christ, if Eddie dies getting crushed to death by Buck's thighs, well, what a way to go - Eddie reaches down and digs his thumb into Buck's hip joint.

Buck groans, arching his hips up into the movement. His cock twitches against Eddie's, who realises suddenly that Buck is still wearing pants and so is he.

"This," he says, tugging at Buck's belt, "needs to go."

Buck grins, open-mouthed, into their kiss, chasing him up as Eddie leans up enough to get his hands on Buck's pants. Buck sits - a position that has to be uncomfortable - leans back on one hand, and uses the other to pull Eddie closer by the neck. A second later, his tongue is fluttering over Eddie's pulse point.

"Christ, Buck," Eddie groans. "Pórtate usted mismo..."

He finally gets Buck's belt undone, along with the zipper to his pants, and reaches inside to touch - in his boxers, this time. The tip is slick with precome already, and the first touch of his fingers causes Buck to tremble, moan, and cling to Eddie's neck with his arm.

"Tan bueno," Eddie murmurs, pushing until Buck's lying down again and Eddie can settle properly. Buck's own hands begin working at Eddie's pants, even as Eddie begins to suck a mark into Buck's throat. He's stroking Buck slowly with one hand, can feel Buck hardening in his grip, and his other hand is still probing at Buck's hip gently.

Buck gets his pants open, and his own hand is inside. Eddie muffles a gasp in Buck's throat, inhales, and is rendered helpless by the heady scent of Buck's aftershave - woody and vaguely spicy and mixed in with Buck's own natural scent. He buries his nose there, listening to Buck breathe, and he can't recall the last time he was this close with someone.

He pulls up, twists his wrist slightly, at thumbs at the head. Buck rocks underneath him, his cock twitching eagerly, and he speeds up his own hand on Eddie.

He moves his hand from Buck's hip to grab his chin, tilts his head back. Buck looks fucked out and ruined, hair wild and lips stained red, pupils blown wide so there's only two thin rings of vibrant blue showing in his eyes. His teeth glimmer white in his mouth.

"Ven aquí, hermoso," Eddie murmurs, pulling him in to kiss him. Buck follows, although it's messy and distracted as he tries to thrust into Eddie's hand. His own hand is working at Eddie's dick too, a smooth rolling movement that Eddie's never really used on himself but can get behind.

"Eddie, Eddie _please_ ," Buck gasps.

Eddie squeezes a little harder, slows his movements, not fully expecting that it would cause Buck to keen. "Dios," he gasps, "estás rogando?"

"Yes," Buck groans, although Eddie's not sure if Buck actually understands him or has just assumed the context of his question. He loves the way Buck's cockiness and attitude is gone, here, the way he's surrendered to Eddie enough to beg for it.

"Seeing as you asked me so nicely," Eddie murmurs, and he speeds up, watching hungrily as Buck's mouth opens in a soundless gasp, and his back arches until his head slams into the arm of the couch. He's throbbing so hard in Eddie's grip it feels like it must be painful, and his own hand, on Eddie, is speeding up.

"I'm gonna-"

"That's it, Buck," Eddie encourages in a gasp. "That's it, you're doing so good, hermoso-"

Buck shudders, and his thighs cinch at Eddie's waist, almost crushing the air out of him. He comes in Eddie's hand, all over his own belly, striping right up to his sternum, sucking his lower lip into his mouth in the process and biting down on it.

It's sinful. Nobody should be allowed to look that good.

Eddie strokes once more, and it ekes out a tiny bit more come, and Buck tilts his head down to pin Eddie with a heated, helpless stare, making a choking noise behind his teeth, and Eddie's gone. He snaps his hips into Buck's hand and comes, right on top of him - his own joins the mess already on Buck's belly, and that's definitely going on the list of things Eddie will think about in the shower later.

Buck's panting is the first thing that infiltrates his senses again. His chest is heaving, and his head is turned to the side, although he's still smiling and looking at Eddie from the corner of one eye. He has his free arm thrown up over his head. When he takes his hand off Eddie's dick, he shamelessly wipes it on himself.

"Wow," Eddie says.

Buck grins toothily. "Yeah."

He sits back on his haunches. Buck's legs fall a little, and Eddie's back down on planet earth when he sees the minute wince of pain cross Buck's face.

"Fuck," Eddie says blankly. "Your leg. I jerked it a little bit, I'm sorry-"

"God, shut up," Buck groans. "You just made me come so hard I think I lost time. Don't apologise for it."

"I like you better when you're begging."

Buck rolls his eyes, but he looks a little pleased - even more so when Eddie clambers off him and goes to find them a washcloth.

When Eddie returns, he begins wiping down Buck's stomach with a heavy sigh. Buck stretches and lets him, basking in the attention and squirming when Eddie digs a thumb into his bad hip.

He doesn't mind cleaning up after both of them, Eddie finds. It's almost nice, the way Buck shivers under his touch still. He seems happy enough to let Eddie manipulate his leg and massage the muscle mass there, and Eddie thinks - _I couldn't ever be this brave, to let someone touch me where I was hurt._

"This okay?"

"Yeah." Buck winces. "Ow, God, Eddie."

"Good ow or bad ow?"

"Good, I guess." Buck shifts his hips back, and Eddie's unsure if it's a signal to stop or not - erring on the side of caution, he does, only to have Buck look up at him with what can only be described as puppy eyes and whine, "Why'd you stop?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and goes back to massaging the spot - absolutely not deriving enjoyment from Buck's happy little sigh - and mutters, "Dios, eres tan necesitado."

Buck glares at him indignantly. "I feel like I got the idea of that," he says.

"Which was?"

"Well, dios is God, right? And I'm guessing that last word is related to necessary, so... needy maybe?"

He'd forgotten that Buck, when he's not devoting his brain to loving people relentlessly, is actually pretty smart and capable of working things out on his own. "You're good," he says. "I'm gonna have to find a new language to complain about you in."

"Complain all you want," Buck sighs, "just keep doing that."

~*~

Two days later brings the weekend, and with it, the promise of seeing Buck.

Chris is practically vibrating out of his car seat on the way to the firehouse. He's been talking about "his Buck" for the last two days, incessantly.

They have plans to go to the amusement park that day, even though Buck's coming off a night shift - he'd insisted he wanted to, and Eddie can only protest so many times before he has to give in and let Buck win the argument.

Buck looks tired when they get there, but also happy to see them. He wraps them both in one of those full-bodied hugs, downright snuggles into Eddie's embrace, and looks a lot more cheerful when they separate. His cheeks have even flushed a little.

He hasn't gained any of the weight he'd lost, but he also hasn't lost any more, and while Eddie doesn't know what's going on he's going to have to be content with just breaking even.

"Aw, look at the happy family," Chimney's voice coos.

Christopher breaks away from Eddie and Buck, grinning, and says, "Hi guys!"

"It's our favourite Diaz!" Hen says, swinging Chris up into her arms for a hug. "Eddie, hey."

"Hi, Hen," he says, smiling. They all treat Chris like part of the family, and it makes him happy to see how comfortable Christopher is with them.

"I've wanted to ask you," she says, "would Chris here be interested in a playdate with Denny?"

"I love making friends!" Chris declares excitedly, before Eddie even gets his mouth open.

"Well, that's great! How about you bring your dad and Buck around for dinner on Friday night, then?"

"I will!"

Hen and Chimney take over Christopher duties for a while, and Eddie turns to Buck, who's smiling tiredly. There's bags under his eyes, but Eddie knows that if he suggests going home to sleep, Buck will outright refuse.

"Thanks," he says instead.

Buck turns to him, smile still in place. "For what?"

"Making us part of the family," Eddie says, gesturing to the firehouse. Bobby's come downstairs and is offering Chris a toasted sandwich. "It means a lot, Buck."

Buck smiles at him like Eddie told him it's Christmas and Santa is real, big and genuine and so bright Eddie doesn't even feel deserving of it. How is Buck still single after all this time? How has no one noticed how good he is?

"You fit right in here," Buck says earnestly, and there's that feeling like Eddie is missing something. "I love having you guys around."

"The feeling's mutual," Eddie says, and Buck leans forward a little, his eyes all soft and wide and warm. Vulnerable, as always.

"Daddy!" Chris yells. "Come on! We're gonna miss the park!"

"Yes, sir," Eddie says, and Chris giggles as he's swept up into an embrace. "Let's go!"

~*~

The amusement park is packed, and Chris insists on riding on Buck's shoulders for a great deal of their time there.

If Buck is tired, he doesn't show it, even though Eddie tells him several times that he's not obligated to carry Christopher around. Buck insists right up until the end of the day, when he begins to limp and look a little faded around the edges.

"Buck's tired, buddy," Eddie says, taking Chris from him and setting him on the ground. "How about you carry him for a bit?"

"No," Chris giggles. "He's too big!"

Buck opens his mouth dramatically. "Christopher, are you calling me fat?"

"Nooo, Buck!" Chris clings to Buck's legs, laughing. "Daddy should carry you."

"Daddy's tired too," Eddie says dryly.

They don't stay much longer - it's been a few hours, Buck has won Chris a teddy bear, and Eddie is more than happy to go home once Chris yawns. Buck is looking genuinely tired now, and it's only three in the afternoon.

They've planned a sleepover at Buck's place tonight. There's a spare bed for Christopher and no mention of anything for Eddie, a topic they've both been skirting. It's Chris's first time in Buck's apartment, which thankfully has a downstairs and upstairs bathroom.

Buck carries Christopher back to the car and buckles him into his seat, kisses him on the head when Chris clings to him sleepily. Soon enough, Buck's in the passenger seat and Eddie is driving them home.

"We can leave you to it if you're sleepy," he says.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Buck yawns. "Seriously, best day ever. I'll have a nap and be fine."

"I think Chris needs one too," Eddie agrees, looking in the rearview mirror. His kid is conked out, hugging the stuffed animal Buck won him.

"Well," Buck says, yawning and stretching until his palms are pressed against the roof of the car and his shirt rides up to reveal a little strip of pale skin on his belly, "looks like you're making dinner."

He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and Eddie is shaken and startled by how badly he wants to kiss it off and regain equilibrium. He clears his throat and says, "Pizza it is."

~*~

Chris doesn't rouse when they get to Buck's, and Eddie is tasked with getting everything out of the car while Buck - yawning so widely it brings tears to his eyes - unbuckles Chris gently and gathers the kid into his arms.

Eddie's throat feels tight, seeing Buck's huge hands holding his son so gently. He's feeling too much, and it feels too heavy, but there's nothing he can do about it.

"You okay if we crash?" Buck whispers as they get into the elevator.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll amuse myself somehow."

Buck nods, yawns, and tilts his head to bury his face in Christopher's curls. He looks like he could sleep standing up, not that Eddie could really blame him.

When they unlock the apartment, Buck heads straight for the stairs up to the bedroom, and Eddie - who is normally a little obsessive about keeping Chris within his sights - lets him. They'll sleep better on a proper bed, he reasons, and it's not like he can't go up there if he needs to.

He busies himself with a beer, then sits down on the couch and realises that for the first time in a long time - with Buck taking care of Christopher - he has time to himself. He could read, or watch TV, or... do a jigsaw puzzle or something.

He settles on Netflix, watching a few episodes of mindless post-apocalyptic entertainment before ordering the pizzas and heading upstairs to wake Christopher and Buck.

Buck is curled on his side, facing the stairs, and Chris is tucked into his chest. They're both sleeping fairly soundly, but when Eddie approaches the edge of the bed, Buck blinks his eyes open, unerringly alert for someone who's just woken.

"Hi," he says sleepily.

"Hey." Eddie watches him get his bearings for a moment. "Sleep okay?"

"So good," Buck sighs, as if the weight of sleep is still pressing his body into the mattress. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty. I ordered us some pizzas if you want to come downstairs."

Buck yawns and nods, then begins to sit. Chris makes an unhappy noise and clings to him.

"C'mon, pal," Buck says, hoisting Chris up into his arms. "Your dad ordered pizza."

"Pizza?" Chris asks hopefully, holding Buck's neck. Buck steps off the bed awkwardly, with a wince, and Eddie finds himself there, taking Chris so that Buck doesn't put even more strain on his leg.

"You good?" he asks softly.

Buck nods, smiles when Eddie cocks his head suspiciously to the side. "I'll grab the deep heat later. It'll be fine."

"Okay," Eddie says dubiously, and Buck laughs at him.

"Don't worry so much, Eds."

"Yeah, Daddy," Chris says.

"Hang on, when was this a two-on-one fight?" Eddie teases, causing Chris to giggle and lean into him. "This doesn't feel fair."

"We stick together, right, Chris?"

"Yeah!"

They eat pizza on the couch and play videogames for a while, until Chris is tired again and ready for bed. The spare room has a queen-sized bed in it - Buck explains that he always wanted Maddie to have a place to go to if she didn't feel safe, which Eddie will examine later - and Chris is out within minutes.

When he returns from putting Chris to bed, Buck is stretched out on the couch, one leg crooked and the bad one straight. He's got the deep heat in his hands, turns to see Eddie enter, and says, "Oh, sorry."

"What for?" Eddie asks, even as Buck scoots backwards to make more room for him to sit. "Hey, don't do that."

"I'm not the greatest person to share a couch with," Buck says ruefully.

Eddie stares at him, and Buck looks back, going suddenly pink. Eddie knows he's thinking about the other times they shared a couch and how that all ended up for them.

"Hurts?" he asks, nodding at Buck's hip. "You walked a lot today."

"It shouldn't hurt from walking," Buck says miserably. Eddie's startled by the tone of voice - he's rarely heard Buck feel sorry for himself. Maybe that's why he holds out a hand.

Buck pauses, looking at him. Then he hands over the deep heat, almost tentatively. Eddie takes it, smiles in what he hopes is a comforting manner, and unscrews the cap. He shuffles closer - between Buck's legs, where Buck's body heat makes him feel almost lightheaded - and pauses.

"Tell me to stop if it hurts," he says, before pulling down the waistband of Buck's sweats to expose his hip.

"Okay," Buck says quietly, and then lets his good leg fall back and straighten out, until his knee is pressed into Eddie's hip. One look at his face tells Eddie that Buck knows _exactly_ what he's doing, but Eddie can't bring himself to care.

Eddie shuffles closer. He's got a foot on the ground, and, after a moment, of hesitation - in which Buck stares up at him and Eddie stares back, feeling suddenly faint with the realisation that Buck won't stop him from doing anything - he grabs Buck's bad leg, gently, at the knee, and pulls it until it's resting over Eddie's thigh.

He's completely in between Buck's legs now, with not a word of protest or even a flicker in his expression to indicate that he wants Eddie to back off. If anything, he's looking up at Eddie and this shy little smile is tugging the corners of his mouth. He's endearingly pink. It's the expression of a person who got their way when they didn't entirely expect to.

Eddie pulls Buck's waistband down again, squirts some of the deep heat onto his fingers, and begins working it in slowly. He could be a lot faster - be done in thirty seconds - but he's surprised to find he doesn't want to be.

Eddie considers himself to be an efficient man. But right here, right now - with Buck spread out underneath him - he wants to be anything but. So he digs his fingers in a little, watches Buck's expression change from that little smile to something more relaxed, and begins working the gel in properly.

He spreads the gel up, past the bone, and digs into the little V at Buck's joint. Buck makes a noise that's half groan, half whimper, and Eddie pauses briefly. He tells himself it's to give Buck a moment and assess, to see if he's in pain, and resolutely ignores the part of his brain that is completely and totally aroused by the noise.

"Okay?" he checks.

"Yeah," Buck replies. His voice sounds raspy.

This is around the point that Eddie starts thinking in Spanish, with the thought _dios, él es jodidamente hermoso_ crossing his mind before he can reel himself in. He's done with Buck's hip, but his hand lingers, and he watches as his fingers slide until they're gripping the soft, meaty part of Buck's upper thigh and edge of his ass, his thumb pressed firmly into Buck's joint.

Buck looks up at him, mouth slightly open, eyes partly hooded, and his tongue flickers out to wet his lips. He shifts upwards, minutely, and Eddie experiments by pressing him down a little more. He's more aroused than shocked when Buck's pupils blow wide and he settles without even a word.

"Santa mierda," Eddie breathes, right as Buck reaches for him and settles both hands on Eddie's waist, urging him closer.

He leans in, down, and Buck's hand comes to the back of his neck the split second before Eddie pushes that little bit further, shuffles forward, and feels how hard Buck is in his sweats. Buck makes a soft little gasp, then leans up and kisses him, slow and gentle and open-mouthed.

"Jesus, Buck," Eddie whispers, and moves to lay properly across Buck's broad chest, tipping his head up and kissing him properly.

Buck pulls at his waist a little, and somehow Eddie's body correctly translates that as Buck wanting him to move - he does, until he's not under Buck's legs, but sitting astride him. He can feel Buck's thighs flexing underneath him, realises with a start that Buck is sitting, dragging Eddie with him, one arm wrapped possessively around his waist so their torsos are crushed together.

Eddie slides a hand up under Buck's shirt, feels him shiver with the motion, and puts his other hand on Buck's bicep, flexing backwards as he supports himself on that hand. He's not sure how to sit or what to hold - he's never been in this position before, and it doesn't come naturally to him like it seems to for Buck - but he does know he feels secure with Buck's arm around him.

They separate for a moment, with Buck panting a little against his chin, then turning his head to nibble at Eddie's jawline almost playfully. He's shifting again, so that his back is against the armrest, giving him the power to push up lightly.

Buck's not exactly a small man - in any part of his anatomy, and Eddie can feel that. His kisses take on a bit of an edge, and Buck's hands find his waist, thumbs against his bottom ribs. He doesn't go rough like Eddie has, keeps it soft and gentle, and eventually Eddie settles again.

It can't go any further with Chris sleeping in the spare room, but Eddie finds that he doesn't mind. Buck is kissing him slow and sweet, hands on Eddie's waist, thighs rock solid beneath him. He's kissing like it's another language, really.

He grips the back of Buck's neck gently, scratches at the short little hairs at the base of his skull. Buck sighs into his mouth happily. God, Eddie is in knots over here - he figured he wouldn't like not being in control, but Buck is sweet and leading him even sweeter, his hands on Eddie's waist wide and warm and impossibly gentle for someone his size.

He kind of figured Buck for the throwing-his-partner-around type in all honesty, at least when he's the one driving everything. He never figured Buck would be just as docile and sweet about being in charge as he is being lead.

He pulls back a little, trying to catch his breath. Buck follows him up and wraps both arms around Eddie's waist tightly, buries his face in the side of Eddie's neck.

"We can't take this further with Chris nearby," Eddie says, and Buck groans softly into his throat. Eddie can feel how hard he is - it's difficult not to when he's sitting on Buck's lap.

"We did that one time," Buck murmurs.

"He was all the way down the hallway and dead asleep," Eddie whispers back. "He's only a few feet away now."

"Okay, okay," Buck mumbles, breathing hot against Eddie's throat which - not helping at all. "Bed?"

Eddie feels something cold settle in his belly at that. Buck - Buck who reads every nuance of his body like it's not difficult, like Eddie's language was written for him - pulls back abruptly, looking nervous and a little sad.

"Never mind," he says, leaving Eddie hanging and unable to find words to express what he's feeling. "It's okay. I get it." He shifts restlessly, and that's about when Eddie realises that he's still sitting astride him, holding onto his shoulders. He climbs off numbly and Buck is up and off the couch, pottering, not meeting his eyes.

They've shared a bed before. So why is Buck offering his so strange, make him feel so downright scared?

He's so in his own head that he doesn't notice Buck has gone upstairs until after it's happened. He sits for a moment, disoriented, before hauling himself off the couch and going to brush his teeth mechanically.

He doesn't want Buck to be sad because of him. He doesn't know what just happened, but he does want to fix it, especially given that Buck seems to be having a rough run lately.

He checks on Christopher, who's sleeping soundly, and then climbs the steps to Buck's loft bedroom. Buck's already in bed, facing away from him.

He's not sleeping. Eddie's not dumb.

"Can I join you?" he asks into the darkness.

"If you want," Buck's voice returns timidly.

Eddie bolsters himself and climbs in. Buck is tucked all the way over on the other side of the king-sized mattress, and Eddie scoots close enough to feel his body warmth, then puts a hand on Buck's back. Buck startles.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"It's okay. I get it. I really do. You don't have to do this, Eddie."

"What do you get?"

Buck's silent. Eddie feels frustration rise and has to consciously bite it back - it's not Buck's fault Eddie froze up. Something weird is going on and has been for a while, and it's about time Eddie pushed the point.

"Buck, what do you get?" Eddie demands. "I'm not letting this go, man, so-"

"If you don't want to do anything other than sleep with me," Buck rushes out.

Eddie lies there, stunned, for a moment. "Is that why you've been acting weird?"

"I guess," Buck mumbles. "Just wondering when you'll get tired of me, man."

That's downright painful for Eddie to hear. He scoots closer and gathers Buck up in his arms - Buck's shirtless, and his skin is deliciously warm and he smells like clean laundry and his aftershave. Eddie resists the urge to breathe in deeply and says, "I'm not tired of you." He leans back a little, enough to find Buck's back and rub it from shoulders to the base of his spine, firmly but soothingly. "Why would you think that?"

Again, silence. Eddie's frustrated beyond belief. He can't work with nothing. This is the only time since they've known each other that Buck has been less than forthcoming.

He has to resist the urge to push. To snap, to default to how he would deal with Shannon being deliberately reticent to tell him things. Buck isn't Shannon, he has to remind himself - he isn't withholding information as a punishment, or using the silent treatment to make him grovel. Buck's clearly nervous and sad about something - something he doesn't want to make Eddie's problem, no doubt.

"Buck?" Eddie asks hesitantly. "You can tell me. I won't judge you."

To his surprise, Buck rolls over to look at him. Any nervousness he has on his face fades with whatever he finds in Eddie's expression, and he licks his lips before quietly stating, "I just - I'm worried once I'm not useful to you anymore, you'll leave."

It's not what he was expecting, somehow, and it's totally floored him. Buck is worried about not being useful to him?

Although - that explains his reticence in telling Eddie he wasn't okay at the party, and how he acted when Eddie asked him to stay, how a "yes" had to be gently cajoled out of him even though Eddie knew he wanted to. Now that Eddie thinks of it, Buck is only comfortable taking what's offered when he's done something for Eddie or they've had some kind of sex.

Buck thinks he has to work for affection. The realisation hits Eddie like an anvil. He thinks he has to work for affection - and he thinks that if he's anything other than happy go lucky and steady, that affection will be withdrawn.

"Dios, cariño, no," Eddie whispers, and pulls Buck into his chest and holds him there tightly. Buck clings to him without hesitation, and now Eddie knows what happened on the couch - Buck was worried about asking for too much.

"Qué te pasó, cariño?" he asks, only realising he's speaking Spanish when Buck raises his head and looks confused.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it." Eddie tucks him in close again; Buck seems content enough to fold up in Eddie's grip. And that - that brings on a whole new onslaught of issues for Eddie. That Buck folds like that, knows _how_ to fold like that.

"And this?" he murmurs, stroking Buck's back. He feels Buck tense under his grip, his fingers bunching at Eddie's back. "Why do you - why do you do this?"

"Do what?" Buck mumbles, with the tone of voice of a person who knows they aren't getting away with anything but is going to try their damndest to do so.

Eddie squeezes him gently, and Buck relaxes. Once you know him, Eddie reflects, handling him is as easy as moulding putty. "You're good at making yourself small," he says, throwing it out in the open where it can't be hidden anymore.

There's a long pause. Buck doesn't pull away from him, but Eddie suspects that's only because he's realised Eddie's not going to push him and is soaking up all the affection he can.

"I'm not going to tell you tonight," Buck says, voice small and somewhere in the vicinity of Eddie's throat. "But I'll tell you someday."

Eddie sucks in a breath, concentrating on keeping his movements even. That's all the confirmation he needs, really, that someone has hurt Buck - an ex-partner, or a parent, or if he's really unlucky, maybe both. Buck won't tell him tonight, and it's the first time Buck's outright said he won't tell him something immediately after being asked, and it speaks more than the truth possibly could.

"Is that okay?" Buck whispers, and Eddie realises he hasn't said anything.

He squeezes Buck tighter, until the other man sighs and settles in, going lax for the first time since they got into bed. "That's fine, mí amor," he murmurs. "Get some sleep."


	9. Fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA LET YOU LIVE THINK AGAIN LMAO  
> in all seriousness tho thank you guys for all the love <3 and also i've pretty much finished chapters 10, 12, 13 and 14, i just have to write 11 so updates should be a lil quicker now  
> ENJOY

Eddie wakes before Buck in the morning and lies there for a moment, staring at Buck's face.

He looks a lot younger in sleep, even with stubble beginning to bloom over his jaw. His long blonde eyelashes are casting shadows onto his cheeks, lips slightly parted.

He's got his head on his pillow, but one leg is slung over Eddie's hips. Eddie can feel how muscular his thigh is purely from how much it weighs on him - and on his bladder.

Carefully, he moves out of bed, leaving Buck tucked under the duvet, and heads downstairs. Christopher is awake and watching cartoons, and while Eddie's not fond of his kid starting the day with TV, he lets it slide just this once.

"Good morning, bud," he says, sitting down on the couch. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great," Christopher says cheerfully. "Is Bucky still sleeping?"

"Yeah, he's out cold! What do you say we make him breakfast, huh?"

Chris hops off the couch and grabs his crutches. "Let's do this," he grins.

~*~

If there's any food Eddie does know how to make, it's breakfast.

He makes up some toast, scrambles eggs and fries up some bacon, mushrooms, and tomato. Hash browns are next, and Chris - who's not really helping so much as he's sitting on the counter next to Eddie - crows that it's a feast.

The smell must wake Buck, because he appears on the stairs just as Eddie's plating everything up, looking a little confused. He's not wearing a shirt, just sweats, and his hair is rumpled. There are pillow creases on his face.

"Buck, Buck!" Chris cries, and wiggles forward until Eddie picks him up and puts him on the ground. "We made you breakfast!"

"You did?" Buck, without hesitation, hefts Christopher into his arms and carries him back to the kitchen, getting rewarded with a sweet, sticky kiss on the cheek. "Wow, you really did!"

He's looking at Eddie as he says it, a hundred questions in his eyes. Eddie just smiles benignly and says, "Go sit down. I'll bring you your plate."

Buck gets Chris situated at the table before thinking about himself, and Eddie brings over breakfast for the both of them before going back for his own. He knocks his knee against Buck's under the table, determined to show him that he doesn't have to be useful to be loved.

"So," Buck says, "did you make your dad help you with this?"

"He was okay," Chris says, stabbing his egg cheerfully. "I did all the work."

"Christopher, pensé que éramos un equipo!" Eddie exclaims, and Chris bursts into giggles. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices that Buck's eating, and that he's eating like he's actually hungry. He hasn't done that in a while, and Eddie can feel satisfied knowing that it worked. Maybe he's gotten to the bottom of the problem - maybe Buck's just felt a little unsure of himself, and that's affecting his appetite.

There's a lot of maybes in that sentence. He pushes them aside and just enjoys Buck eating like a normal person, hoping that this is the last of the issue.

~*~

Buck has a Wii, and on that Wii is Animal Crossing.

Eddie will freely admit that he doesn't really get this stuff, a lot of the time. But Chris is thrilled with the game, and Buck is happy to sit and watch him play and point out all the cheerful little animals, and it's gotten cold outside.

Eddie sits in the kitchen, with his coffee, alternating between reading his book and watching them. It feels almost like home here, in the way that it could be if he let it. It's more kid-friendly than the first time Eddie came over, like Buck was anticipating Chris's continued involvement in his life and prepared for it.

"Hey Buck?" Christopher asks, staring intently at one of the little anthropomorphic animals on the screen.

"Yeah, buddy?" Buck asks.

"Will you come to my field trip?" Chris asks. "It's to a science museum!"

Buck looks at Eddie over Chris's head, clearly wondering if there's toes being stepped on. There aren't - Eddie has that day off, and it's supposed to be a family event more than anything.

If anything, he's glad Buck will be along for the ride so that he gets some adult conversation not involving the word divorce. He nods, and Buck grins excitedly.

"I'd love to, buddy. When is it?"

"Next Thursday," Chris mumbles, focussed more on the game and digging holes than he is on the conversation.

"Alright. I'll be there!"

~*~

They can't go on the bus with Christopher to the museum, which Eddie is honestly kind of grateful for - he gets a little bus-sick, honestly, and doesn't even want to think of Buck's long legs crammed into the tiny spaces behind the seats.

He picks Buck up from his place at around ten in the morning. Buck, he's relieved to see, looks healthy and happy - he's worked a lot this week, with overtime, and he still hadn't looked the most sure of himself when Eddie and Chris had left his house. He's regained a little weight, anyway.

"Morning," Buck says cheerfully, hopping into Eddie's car after he pats his pockets - checking he's got everything, no doubt. "Are you excited?"

"I feel like you and Chris are excited enough to have me covered too," Eddie says dryly, and Buck laughs.

"C'mon, Eds. It'll be fun," Buck wheedles. "At the end I might even buy you a stuffed animal."

"Fine, but I want the biggest one they have in the gift shop. The one that makes all the little kids cry when their parents say no." They pull up at a red light; Eddie turns to look at Buck appraisingly, and hey, he can do that. Friends make sure friends are okay.

Buck blinks at him, then squirms a little. "What?" he asks. "Did I miss a spot shaving-"

"No," Eddie says, amused. Buck's wearing a dark blue t-shirt that buttons at the top, though he's left those open, and cream-coloured chinos. He looks - well, he looks good, really fucking good, and his aftershave makes Eddie feel relaxed. Now that he's thinking about it, he's gotten used to Buck looking a little tired and a little hunted lately.

"You look good," he says sincerely, and he's amused when a little blush creeps up Buck's neck and into his face. He never would've guessed that someone with so much game was so easily flustered - but it's quickly becoming one of his favourite things about Buck.

"I didn't do anything special..."

"I don't know," Eddie admits. "You just look happier than you did last time I saw you."

"I'm going to a museum with my favourite boys," Buck says cheerfully, almost bouncing in his seat. "How could I be unhappy?"

Eddie - well, Eddie doesn't know what to make of Buck's honesty; he never has. So he smiles and listens as Buck rambles about whatever it is that's got his attention this week, and looks forward to the museum.

~*~

They meet up with Chris's class in the cafeteria area, and Chris immediately lights up when he sees Buck and Eddie.

He thinks he lucked out to find a person that likes Chris as much as Chris likes them; Buck never complains about him having a kid, never has. In fact, he seems to see it as more of a benefit than anything else.

Eddie hands over their contact information to one of the cheerful teacher's aides at the front of the room while Buck goes to Christopher, who is squawking his name. Some of the other kids - the ones who were at Liam's party - also recognise Buck, and begin to crowd around.

"Looks like we've got a celebrity in our midst," Mrs. O'Loughlin says with a smile.

"They can sense he's the same age as them," Eddie says dryly, watching as Buck hefts Christopher up into his arms for a cuddle.

"Dad, Dad!" Chris yells, and Buck obediently carries him over so that Chris can hug Eddie as well. He can't even bring himself to care that Chris seems content in Buck's arms - ever since Shannon left, Eddie's longed for the day where Chris would feel as safe with someone else as he does with Eddie, and now, they have Buck.

They're more or less free to do what they want after that - Chris seems to want to spend the day with Liam, which is a little unfortunate on the basis that Liam's parents, though they love him deeply, can't see eye to eye on anything. They should, Eddie thinks, somewhat guiltily, probably get a divorce, though that's unlikely to happen.

"Where do you wanna go first, buddy?" Buck asks Chris.

"The brain!" Chris says excitedly.

"Okay! Let's go!"

Buck's high-energy temperament is perfect for working with kids, Eddie muses. If he wasn't a firefighter, he could definitely see Buck working in some kind of childcare.

Liam's parents have about five minutes of truce before they begin to snap, and Eddie's heart sinks when Liam slips his hand into Eddie's shyly and hangs on. He doesn't meet Eddie's eyes.

"You okay, kiddo?" Eddie asks kindly. Liam is much more reserved than Chris is, a little bit more sensitive and easy to shake up. He sort of sees himself there, when he was little. He's glad Liam can feel safe with him, at least.

Liam shrugs. "I don't like it when they fight," he admits.

"Yeah. It sucks, huh?"

Liam nods. "Mr. Diaz, do you and Buck fight?"

Eddie feels a little tongue tied. He and Buck don't fight because he and Buck aren't together. But everyone here - including the kids who were at Liam's birthday party - think they are.

"What makes you ask that?" he says, stalling for time.

Liam shrugs. "Chris says you don't. But Mommy said all parents do."

Eddie winces. Chris - like himself, and freakishly like Buck, has a pretty strong sense of what's right and wrong. He's sure his kid meant well by insisting that not all parents fight, and, well, Eddie can't fault him because he knows he's right - at least, they don't fight the way Liam's parents do - but he does wish that maybe it had been done more tactfully.

Then again, Chris is seven. Most seven year olds are in short supply of tactfulness.

"Some parents fight," he says gently.

"Yeah, but not like mine," Liam says miserably.

Seven year olds can also be shockingly perceptive.

As if sensing that something is wrong, Buck's turned back for them, walking at Christopher's pace. Chris, seeing the misery on Liam's face, says, "C'mon, Liam! Bucky said he'll buy us ice cream when we finish the brain!"

"Oh Buck did, did he?" Eddie asks, and Buck winces.

"Sorry, man. I didn't think..."

"It's fine, Buck." Eddie categorises his expression, one of trepidation and almost fear. "It's a field trip. They're supposed to eat junk and have fun."

Buck relaxes, marginally, and sidles closer. Eddie has to hide a smile at that - Buck's not subtle when he wants affection, even when he tries to be. Eddie takes his wrist, gently, pressing his fingers against Buck's pulse point because - well, just because.

Buck looks downright pleased at that, even though it's not hand-holding in the slightest. His skin pricks with goosebumps when Eddie rubs his thumb lightly over the veins and tendons on his inner wrist.

Affection can be used to show Buck he's not angry. That's... good, he thinks, but something he'll need to address before he Pavlovs Buck into thinking that any time he doesn't show affection he is angry.

They make their way through the brain section of the museum, with Chris and Liam ahead of them but within sight. Buck seems happy enough to keep Eddie company rather than follow them. This continues all the way through the whale exhibit, during which they receive a disturbingly detailed account of whale mating cycles from the museum attendant.

"How's the leg?" Eddie asks, after they've been walking in companionable silence for a bit.

"Leg-? Oh, yeah, it's okay," Buck says. "I had a physio appointment yesterday. They suck, but it feels a lot better afterwards."

He's not limping, but he's made mention before that he's trained himself not to. "Will it need deep heat later?" Eddie asks, before his brain catches up with his mouth.

Buck stops walking, turning to face him, and Eddie feels his face grow a little pink. He raises his chin, a silent yeah, I meant what I said, and Buck's hands dig into his pockets.

"Um, yeah," Buck says. "It's kind of... it's a nightly thing. So... yeah, if that's on offer...?"

"It's on offer," Eddie murmurs. "Come back to ours after this."

Buck nods. He's quiet for the rest of the trip through the brain exhibit, which worries Eddie - he was fine before, quiet but not like he was preoccupied. This is different.

They sit down to lunch, with Chris opting to sit with another group of children and Eddie and Buck at their own table close by. Buck's still quiet, and Eddie remembers that he'd told Eddie he'd be honest if Eddie asks questions, so...

_Here goes nothing_ , he thinks, bolstering himself for an argument. "What's up?" he asks.

Buck blinks up at him. "Sorry," he says, surprising Eddie. "Kind of got lost in my own head."

It might take some wheedling, Eddie realises, but Buck's not going to pretend nothing is wrong. "That's cool," he says. "Where'd you get lost?"

Buck shrugs. "Just... it's weird," he mumbles. "The last time I was with a guy, he didn't..."

Care, Eddie finishes for him mentally. He doesn't quite know what to say, but Buck spares him and continues.

"I went straight from my parents' house to his," Buck explains sheepishly. "I didn't really realise that anything was wrong. I didn't know better. But he didn't care a lot, even when I was sick or anything. He was older than me."

"How much older?" Eddie asks, feeling angry at the mystery guy beyond what might be reasonable as Buck's friend.

"Five years."

Moving straight from home to his twenty three year old's boyfriend's place just sort of makes his hackles rise. It might not have before, but if he thinks about it, why should it be different because Buck's male? "What happened?" he asks.

Buck looks up at him, eyes wide. He's chewing his lip, clearly unsure of what to say, though his expression tells Eddie more than Buck's words ever could - this guy hurt Buck, in one way or another, and Buck clearly hasn't forgotten it. Who could?

"He wasn't good to me," Buck hedges. He's clearly not going to say more; Eddie puts his hand over Buck's free one, which is drumming anxiously on the tabletop.

"How old were you?" Eddie asks gently.

"I was eighteen when we got together." Buck spins his fork idly in his pasta, and Eddie notices he hasn't really eaten much of it. "Twenty two when he left."

Eighteen. Eddie remembers eighteen - he thought he was an adult, and probably would've jumped at the chance to be in a relationship with someone older than him. Now, he realises that eighteen is still basically a child, and that he was essentially an overgrown baby with the right to drive and the means to illegally obtain alcohol.

"You never told Maddie?" Eddie asks.

"No." Buck shakes his head. "No, she... was married to this guy, I never liked him. He always freaked me out, how he treated her and how he looked at everyone. I tried to talk to her about it but she just told me not to worry and that everything was fine. I didn't want to, I dunno, give her more to stress over? And home wasn't great, so I kinda understood why she left so soon."

Eddie frowns. He'd guessed about Buck's home life, but didn't know that Maddie had been in a situation like that. "How he treated her?"

"It's not really my story to tell," Buck says uncomfortably. "But... when she left, she came here." He swallows. "He told her he'd kill her if he found her. She said he meant it."

"Jesus," Eddie murmurs. "Buck... you've just been dealing with this on your own?"

Buck shrugs mutely.

"You don't have to, you know," Eddie says. "I get that you don't wanna talk about Maddie's personal stuff. I have sisters too. But, man, you shouldn't have to deal with it on your own. You ever talked to anyone about - well, anything?"

Like Eddie can talk. Eddie has remained as tightly lipped as possible about as many things as possible almost his entire life, and he's not showing any signs of changing.

Buck, to his surprise, flushes. "I went to therapy once," he says. "Bobby made me. I... got caught having sex. On the roof of the firehouse. In uniform. He sent me to a therapist and we had sex in her office."

Eddie frowns again. "She was supposed to be treating you for sex addiction and she slept with you?" he asks.

"Look, I don't feel great about it," Buck mumbles defensively. He's staring intently at his plate. "So you don't need to-"

"I'm not anything," Eddie interrupts. "She shouldn't have done that. She should've known better."

Buck doesn't necessarily look like he believes Eddie, but he does look like he's at least comforted by the words. "Anyway," he says. "That's enough about my depressing backstory. We're supposed to be having fun."

Eddie reads it the way he hopes he's supposed to, as a genuine desire to move on from the topic and not avoidance. "We are having fun," he says. "I've learned more about the reproductive cycles of whales than I ever wanted to, but-"

Buck laughs. "Yeah, that guy was uh, informative," he grins. "What else do you think is in store?"

"God, nothing, I hope," Eddie groans. "How bad can the bug exhibit possibly be?"

~*~

The bug exhibit is pretty bad - if only for the fact that the slightly overenthusiastic exhibit manager decides to bust out a whole tarantula.

Christopher is safe - he's sitting astride Buck's shoulders, and while he doesn't cry or scream like some of the other kids do, he does grip Buck's hair hard enough to make him wince. Eddie can't really blame him - right around this point he decides to hide behind Buck as well.

"Por qué demonios alguien elegiría arañas sobre mariposas?" he mutters, peering out from behind Buck's arm.

"Daddy said a bad word," Chris rats him out immediately.

"That's okay, I didn't understand," Buck says cheerfully. "C'mon, Chris, you don't wanna look at him? He's kinda cute."

"Él es lo que ahora?" Eddie demands.

"I don't know what you're saying, Eds," Buck chuckles.

"I don't want to look," Chris admits.

"Okay, okay. In that case... gift shop!"

They head to the gift shop, with Chris still on Buck's shoulders and Eddie watching Buck's gait carefully. It's getting colder, and Buck's been limping more frequently with the change in weather. "Humans aren't supposed to have metal for bones," he'd sighed mournfully to Eddie a few days ago. "It might sound cool on paper, but in practice it sucks."

But Buck isn't limping in here, where it's warm, so Eddie doesn't have a reason to worry. Buck puts Chris down once they're in the gift shop and promptly begins to peruse the area, more like a kid than a chaperone.

Still, Eddie feels better with him here. Four eyes are better than two, and he trusts Buck's as much as he does his own.

"Can I buy Christopher something?" Buck asks hopefully. "I wanted to check with you first, but-"

"Of course," Eddie says with a smile.

Buck bounces away to find something, and Eddie talks Chris into waiting in the cafeteria so that Buck can surprise him. It makes him melt to see Chris's expression when Buck exits, carrying a bag.

"Daddy, Buck got something!" he says excitedly.

Buck sits down at the table with a huff and a smile. "Can I have a fry?" he asks Chris.

"Yes!"

So he does, and then produces a stuffed crocodile from the bag, complete with goofy teeth and eyeballs and a wide grin. "I thought your dragon might need a friend," he says seriously to Chris. "Are you up to the task of parenting a dragon and a crocodile at the same time?"

"I can do it, Buck," Chris says seriously.

Buck hands the crocodile over - which Christopher promptly names Chompy - and smiles as Chris admires him. "What do you think?" he asks, almost nervously.

"I love him," Chris declares.

"What do you say?" Eddie prompts gently.

Chris wriggles off his chair and pats Buck's knees; Buck picks him up and settles him on his lap, only to get engulfed by a hug. "Thank you, Buck," Chris says happily. "I love you."

Buck closes his eyes, clutching Chris close and burying his nose in his curls. He looks... almost sad, Eddie realises, even as he can feel that Buck is overjoyed to hear it. Why would Buck be sad about Chris telling him he loves him?

"I love you too, Christopher," Buck says quietly.

~*~

On the way home, Christopher clutches Chompy and has a full-blown discussion with him about what it means to be in the Diaz family, while Buck and Eddie catch up in the front seat.

Yesterday, Eddie restored a car that was made the year before he was born; Buck had to kick in three separate doors to perform rescues. No one's died recently, which almost explains the uptick in Buck's mood.

Once they get home, Eddie begins to get Chris started on his homework. He hears something chopping in the kitchen and realises, belatedly, that Buck has started them dinner. He should feel bad that a guest is doing the hardest part of the evening, but instead he's just quietly grateful. He'll make it up to Buck later.

"Daddy," Christopher says, squinting at his math homework.

"Yeah?"

"When is Buck gonna move in with us?"

Eddie's mouth goes dry. He strains his hearing to work out if Buck overheard Christopher's comment, but the cutting in the kitchen doesn't even falter.

"Uh," he says.

"He's here all the time anyway," Chris wheedles him. "And I like it when he helps with my science projects."

"I know you do, buddy." Sometimes, Eddie forgets this isn't real - forgets that Christopher doesn't know this isn't real. "You want him to move in, huh?"

"It's cool having three people here," Chris says cheerfully.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "It is."

~*~

After dinner, Eddie gets Christopher to shower and then gets him dry and into pyjamas. Christopher is wiped, but he still insists on a story from Buck, with his dragon and his crocodile tucked into bed beside him.

Buck reads until Christopher's asleep, and Eddie does the washing up, ruminating over Chris's request. It wouldn't be the worst thing to have Buck living here, he realises. Extra security, and Buck is here all the time anyway, or Eddie is at his...

Except they would need separate rooms, at which point Chris and everyone would realise that the whole thing is a lie.

He hears footsteps behind him and turns to find Buck in the kitchen, smiling. He started to limp about half an hour ago, and although it's not that bad yet, Eddie's keen to head off the pain before it even begins to settle in.

"Want help?" Buck asks.

"Nope, you cooked. Go sit down. Relax," Eddie teases. "I'll join you in a minute."

Buck shrugs, but he's smiling, and he heads into the living room. The TV goes on, volume quiet so Christopher can sleep, and Eddie finishes with the last of the non-stick pans before washing his hands and going in to join Buck.

Buck's got clothes here, now, at least some, and he's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a worn white t-shirt. He looks soft and sleepy and every bit like he's ready for bed, really.

"Deep heat time," Eddie says, waving the tube he's retrieved from the bathroom.

Buck blushes. "I thought you were joking about that."

"I wasn't, but I can leave it if you want." It almost pains him to say it - he likes the way Buck melts under his touch, trusts him completely, likes that he can do at least this one thing for Buck when Buck does so much for them.

Buck shakes his head. "It's kinda sore," he says. "Just, um, the cold, and the physio yesterday..."

"I get it," Eddie replies quickly, wanting that anxious look off Buck's face as quickly as possible. Buck doesn't ask for things even if he wants them, which is another learning curve for Eddie. "Lean back, let's do this."

Buck gets comfortable on the couch, sprawling back in much the same way he did last time - with his legs slightly parted so that Eddie can access his joint. This time is a little different - Eddie slides confidently between his legs and pulls his good one to rest over his own hip.

"You ready?" he asks.

Buck nods, watching him for a moment before turning his head to watch the Netflix trailer that's playing on TV. Eddie pulls the waistband of his pyjama pants down and squirts some deep heat on his fingers, spreading it to warm it before beginning to rub it on Buck's joint.

Buck pulls his hip back for a second, then stills. "Cold," he offers to Eddie when Eddie pauses.

"Okay. Sorry."

Eddie works his fingers in, gently, first into the bone and then working his way around the softer parts, where Buck's hip melts into his abs and side, and all the way around to his upper thigh. He feels a knot there, pauses, and then presses.

"Ow!" Buck gasps, his leg jerking at Eddie's waist.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie rushes to say. "I'm sorry, you had a knot there. You okay?"

Buck nods, relaxing back into the couch. Eddie rubs his hip sympathetically, apologetically - he really didn't mean to hurt Buck.

He keeps going, a little more gently this time. Buck still winces less than a minute later, shifting his hips back again like he's trying to escape Eddie's fingers. Eddie does stop, completely this time, feeling inexplicably guilty and at a loss as to what he should do.

"Sorry," Buck says, beating him to the punch. "It really does help. It just hurts more when I've had physio on it. I forgot to tell you."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Buck mumbles shyly.

"Okay. Tell me if you do?"

"I will."

He continues after that, so gentle Buck must hardly feel it. He looks up after ten minutes to see that Buck's eyes are closed, and he's breathing deeply, mouth slightly open. He's dead asleep.

Eddie's stomach lurches unpleasantly. He doesn't know what it means that Buck is comfortable enough to just - fall asleep, with another man touching a part of his body that causes him pain, with said man in between his legs. He doesn't know what it means and he feels like he should.

But he's tired, and Buck's chest with his worn white t-shirt is beginning to look like a great pillow. He puts the deep heat tube down, pulls Chris's Spider-Man blanket over the back of the couch, and then hesitates.

They've slept together plenty of times, he reasons.

He eases himself down, gently, until he's lying on Buck's chest. Buck radiates heat like a furnace, which is a bonus in this weather, and Eddie makes sure to tuck the blanket over both of them. Buck snuffles into his hair, then wraps both arms around him.

Eddie lets a shaky sigh rattle his chest and closes his eyes. This - no matter what it might mean - feels right.

~*~

At some point during the night - not much later, he doesn't think, because Netflix doesn't ask him if he's still there - he wakes enough to shuffle himself and Buck into the bedroom.

It's gotten colder, and Buck stumbles after him easily enough, collapses into one side of the bed and is immediately unconscious again. Eddie eases into it, realising he slept better cramped on the couch with his ear pressed to Buck's heart than he does in his own bed.

He falls asleep before contemplation can take hold.

It doesn't last long - before he knows it, he's awake again, hand stretching across the mattress for someone who isn't there. He blinks his eyes open groggily, takes in the rumpled duvet next to him, registers Buck's absence.

He waits for a few minutes - maybe Buck went to the bathroom - but when Buck hasn't returned and Eddie can't hear noise in the house, he gets up to go and investigate.

The bathroom light is on, which surprises him, given he can't hear anything. He pushes the door open without thinking that Buck might want privacy.

"Buck?" Eddie blinks; Buck looks up at him sheepishly.

"Hi, Eddie," he mumbles.

He's sitting on the floor, Eddie realises, vaguely alarmed. He's sitting on the floor and he's somehow managed to cram himself between the shower stall and the counter, which is a remarkably tight space for someone Buck's size.

Eddie kneels down slowly, giving himself the chance to read Buck's body language and Buck the chance to indicate he doesn't want Eddie to come closer. He's not wearing a shirt, and his skin is rippling with shivers.

"Are you sick?" Eddie asks, slowly - though, he thinks right after, if Buck was sick he probably would've chosen a spot next to the toilet, and his eyes are bright and clear, alert. He shakes his head, though Eddie touches his forehead anyway, to make sure.

"Okay," Eddie murmurs. Buck's not exactly fighting him off, but he's not being forthcoming either. He's attentive to what Eddie's doing, but he's not actively participating. This is weird, Eddie admits to himself. "Are you hurt? Is it your leg?"

"No," Buck says quietly.

Eddie takes in his bad leg. Buck has it angled up, undoubtedly to take pressure off it. He's wearing baggy, plaid pyjama bottoms, but Eddie can see his ankle and the scarring that twists its way upwards.

Eddie sits back on his haunches. Buck's not sick, he's not hurt, and he seems to be pretty grounded in the present. So why is he crammed into the smallest corner of Eddie's bathroom he can find?

"Will you tell me why you're here?" Eddie asks gently.

Buck looks down at that, swallows. "I had a nightmare," he admits. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"Oh," Eddie says. That... sort of makes sense. "You're okay though? You know where you are, who you're with?"

"Yeah. I'm with you in your house. We went to the museum today." Buck swallows. "I just didn't know when I woke up, that's all," he mumbles.

Eddie's heart breaks a little. "You should've woken me up," he says, edging a little closer. Buck moves his legs to let him, and Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder. The shivers stop for a moment; he's relieved that Buck's with him here.

"It's dumb."

"That's definitely not a dumb reason to wake me up, Buck," Eddie murmurs. "You okay with coming back to bed? You look cold."

Buck nods readily, and he accepts Eddie's help in crawling out from the corner. His eyes look a little sleepier, now - like he's realised it's Eddie and feels he can let his guard down, almost.

They pad down the hallway, quietly, to avoid waking Christopher. Buck crawls back into his side of the bed with a sigh, tugging Eddie's duvet up around his shoulders. Eddie gets in next to him and switches the lamp off.

He reaches out, slowly, finds Buck's smooth chest in the darkness. He feels warmer, now, and Eddie can feel his heart pumping evenly and slowly.

"If you have another nightmare," Eddie murmurs, "wake me up, okay?"

"Okay," Buck agrees sleepily.

He's back asleep in no time, but Eddie's awake and watching him, coming to the slow realisation that Buck would only have one reason to retreat to the bathroom after a nightmare - if he thought he was going to be sick, or thought he was in danger. And Buck was nowhere near the toilet.

Eddie shuffles over, works one arm under Buck's shoulders and puts the other one over him, pulling him in close. Buck sighs and snuggles into him, wraps his own arms around Eddie and clings like Eddie's always known him to.

"Okay?" Eddie checks.

"Yeah," Buck says sleepily. "Thanks, Eds."

Eddie squeezes him. "Don't mention it," he yawns, and promptly drifts off to sleep.

~*~

They don't talk a lot for the next few days, and at first Eddie thinks it's just because they're busy - it takes him almost a whole two days to work out something is wrong.

He gets a call at midday on one of Buck's night shift days, when Buck should be asleep. He's at work but he picks up right away, because something could be wrong if Buck is calling him now.

"Hey," he says. "You okay?"

"What?" Buck sounds flustered. "I - yeah, Eddie, we need to talk. Can you talk?"

"I'm at work at the moment," Eddie says slowly. "Why, where's the fire?"

"I just - I really need to talk to you, man."

"Okay, okay, relax. It's okay. I'll be home by four, Chris isn't gonna be dropped off by abuela until six. Does that work for you?"

"Yeah, okay. Cool."

"Are you-"

The line goes dead. Eddie's eyebrows arch nearly to his hairline. That, by far, is the strangest interaction he's ever had with Buck.

True to his word, he's home by four, and there's a knock at the front door by four fifteen. He's only just showered and he has to rush to get it, knowing it's Buck and that he doesn't have to hurry.

"Hey," he says, grinning as he swings it open. "How-"

Buck looks like shit, he realises with a start. He's pale and there's bags under his eyes and they're rimmed with red like he's been crying or he's about to. He's almost pacing.

"Jesus, Buck, are you okay?" Eddie asks, reaching out to try and take Buck's arms in his hands. "You look terrible-"

"I'm fine," Buck says. "I'm in love with you."

Eddie blinks. "What?"

Buck opens his mouth to repeat himself, and that's right when the enormity of Buck's statement hits him. Buck's in love with him, and Eddie is almost numb.

"As a friend?" he asks.

"No, Eddie," Buck says, voice breaking. "I'm in love with you, as in I want to be with you for real and not fake at all. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I had to tell you, I couldn't keep-"

Buck's words blur out. Eddie doesn't know what to feel, or how to act - Buck's in love with him; it's not fake, and that's why it looks real to everyone around them, because for Buck, it is. It has been. This isn't how this was supposed to go for him.

"When did it start?" Eddie asks hollowly.

"I don't know," Buck chokes. "Eddie, God, say something else, please, anything else, I know it's a curveball but-"

"I can't," Eddie says blankly.

"What?"

"I can't." There's panic there now - Buck is his best friend, a man. Buck can't be in love with him, can't have been in love with him this entire time when there was sex involved and Eddie thought - well, he didn't think, that was the whole point. That he didn't have to think, that it was fake. "I can't do this, Buck."

"Okay, yeah, I know," Buck says, his voice wobbling. "I'm sorry Eddie."

"I need you to go," Eddie says, like someone else is piloting his brain.

"Okay," Buck chokes. "Okay, I'll go. Um-" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, then flees, all but running to his car and getting into it. The engine revs, and there's a spray of gravel as he takes off.

Eddie stands in the doorway for a long time.


	10. Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I BROKE EVERYONE'S HEART BUT GOD DAMN YOU GUYS LEFT A LOT OF COMMENTS THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE <3
> 
> also thanks to that one anon who asked when it would be updated cuz if they hadn't it would've probably been another few days but they lit a fire under my ass so go thank the anon at allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com <3

Eddie doesn't exactly go into total meltdown mode over Buck's confession, but he comes pretty close.

He's confused about a few things. He's confused because he and Buck have only been fake-dating for a few months and he doesn't understand how Buck can fall in love with someone he's not even dating for real.

Another part of him is confused because he's not sure why Buck would fall in love with him, specifically.

The confusion lends itself to anger, as it always has. He's confused because he thought they were friends, but now, with Buck's confession hanging over his head, he's looking at it through a completely different lens and it's like putting on goggles after using just his eyes in chlorinated water.

He's angry with Buck, for tipping his life upside down when Buck was supposed to do the opposite and solve his issue with Shannon. He's angry with himself for not fucking noticing that Buck had developed feelings for him, when, in hindsight, some of it seemed obvious.

He's angry because he thinks maybe he gave Buck mixed messages without even meaning to, and he never wanted to hurt the guy. So he's angry, and he's confused, and he has to somehow tell Christopher that they've "split up" and that he probably won't be able to see Buck anymore, and that's gonna break his kid's heart.

He's angry at Buck for putting him in this shitty situation. Mostly he's angry with himself, because he let it happen.

(There's a part of him, too, that's confused about his own feelings. He liked Buck enough to be aroused by him, to kiss him and want to continue, to get him off and call him terms of endearment. He could probably deal with the sexual attraction on its own, but it's accompanied by this all-encompassing need to protect Buck, and he doesn't know what to do with that).

He's not ready to think about that yet. He's just not ready. Maybe he never will be, even as there's a part of him that wonders what might've happened if he'd received Buck's confession a little better.

Chris is devastated, and he cries, and he demands to talk to Buck to confirm that it's true. Eddie refuses that, because things are already going to be hard enough on everyone without Chris begging for contact.

He's guilty. Christopher finally found someone he felt safe and accepted with, and Eddie ruined it for him. Or maybe Buck did. Or maybe they both did.

"Does Bucky still love me?" Chris asks tearfully, the second night they've gone without speaking to Buck.

"Of course he does." He feels safe saying that because for all it's fucked up, he knows it's true.

"Then how come I can't talk to him?"

Eddie sighs. "Sometimes when adults break up, they need time apart," he explains, gently, even as Chris stares up at him and Eddie realises he doesn't comprehend what he's being told. "So Buck and I need to... not talk for a little bit."

"I'm not an adult," Chris says, voice wobbling. "How come I can't talk to him?"

Eddie doesn't have a proper answer for that. He holds Chris until he falls asleep, cursing himself to hell and back. How he ever thought this would end well for anyone...

His phone pings as he sits at the dining room table, crunching numbers for bills. Buck's name flashes across his screen, and his stomach lurches.

He opens the text message with an overwhelming sense of trepidation, expecting that Buck will be railing at him, furious.

**From: Buckaroo, 6:38PM:** do you want me to take down all the posts on social

God, but that hurts to read. He doesn't even care if Shannon sees at this point - he's already as low as he feels he can get. What's the worst she can do now, try to fight for his affection back?

**To: Buckaroo, 6:43PM:** It's up to you.

He waits. The bubble appears, disappears, reappears. It does that a few times before it finally solidifies, and a text comes through about a minute later.

**From: Buckaroo, 6:44PM:** you paid for them so it's your choice

Eddie winces. Buck's giving him the option of keeping the posts up - keeping the pretence up - even though at this point he really doesn't owe Eddie anything. Eddie's not a cruel enough man to force Buck to keep them there, even though he knows he could ask and Buck would do it.

**To: Buckaroo, 6:47PM:** It's okay, you can take them down. I don't care.

This time, when the bubble appears and disappears, it's the only time. He wants desperately to know what Buck was going to say, but it hurts too much to ask.

He misses Buck. The revelation hits him in much the same way his mostly-subconscious revelation about his feelings did - like a punch to the gut. How can he feel all these things and still not be ready to talk? About anything?

He thinks of Buck hiding in the bathroom in the middle of the night, and his eyes prick with tears. He doesn't want Buck to be cramped into his bathroom because he's had a nightmare with no one to pull him out, and he doesn't know how to change that, now, with the way that he feels. He's so mad about it. He's mad at not having the time to come to his own realisation, that Buck - expected Eddie to reject him, didn't fight back-

His phone rings.

He answers when Buck's name scrolls across his screen, unsure of what to say. For a moment, neither of them says anything.

Then, "How's Chris?"

Christ, Buck sounds miserable. Somehow Eddie wasn't expecting that. "He's okay," Eddie says, a bold-faced lie and they both know it. He doesn't say what he's thinking and what he knows Buck wants to ask - that Chris has asked about him and wants to talk to him.

"That's good." Buck's voice is quiet, subdued. "Um. The social media stuff... I need you to decide."

"Buck," Eddie says warningly, feeling his temper flare.

"It's not because I can't decide on my own," Buck mutters. "It's because we both entered a contract and you were paying me and I don't get to decide what happens to the photos, you do. So you have to tell me what to do."

"Fine, take them down," Eddie says shortly.

"Okay." Buck sounds wounded. "I will."

Another long pause. "Is that all?" Eddie asks.

"I meant it," Buck replies, and Eddie feels cold all over. "What I said. I meant it."

"I know you meant it," Eddie says tersely.

"You did?" He hates how surprised Buck sounds.

"Yeah, I did. I do. Buck, I'm not gonna talk about this with you, okay? Not right now, maybe not ever." He chews his lip anxiously. He wonders where Buck is, what he's doing. "That's kind of why I asked you to-"

"Don't say it," Buck mumbles. He sounds downright teary now.

"Okay, then you need to realise we can't talk right now," Eddie says, frustrated.

There's a long pause. He can hear Buck's breathing, tries to convince himself it doesn't sound strained and that he cares - as a friend. A friend who has been totally sidelined by Buck's feelings towards him - that they're real.

"This was supposed to be fake," Eddie says desperately. "Right? This was supposed to be fake. Buck, I can't - I can't deal with you having feelings for me. I can't. Until I can we can't talk."

More silence. Eddie tries to translate it, but he never realised before now just how much he'd been relying on Buck's facial expressions to decipher his moods. It turns out Buck's facially expressive, and how did Eddie not realise that?

The silence almost makes him angry. In fact, not almost - it does make him angry; the idea that Buck is sitting on the other end of the line just not saying anything after putting Eddie in this position in the first place, for not being honest-

_He was honest_ , a little voice in his brain reminds him. _Once he worked it out he told you-_

Eddie ruthlessly shuts that thought down. His heart is pounding in his chest; he feels cornered by the weight of Buck's feelings and the knowledge that he's hurt the guy, and that he didn't have a choice in that.

"You didn't even tell me the truth!" he hisses into the phone. "How long have you known? How long has this been real to you?"

"I don't know," Buck's voice replies, finally, tiny and unsure. "Why can't you try to see it from my point of view?"

"Because you lied to me!" Eddie exclaims.

"We had sex more than once and I told you I was less lonely with you and you called me beautiful," Buck says, almost angrily, and Eddie kind of liked it better when Buck was silent and letting him rant. "I told you I didn't want it to be fake anymore, and then as soon as I - man, as soon as I knew I told you, I didn't lie to you. I _wouldn't_ lie to you-"

Maybe it's the painful truth he can hear ringing in Buck's voice that sends him over the edge; maybe it's that his soul is telling him this is all wrong but his head is scared and the tug of war is killing him, but the next words out of his mouth are, "It isn't real. It never was. Don't call me again, Buck."

Before he hears anything other than a sharp intake of breath, he hangs up. He paces the length of the kitchen, fuming, hands on his head, frantic with a way to escape how trapped he feels.

It only takes a few minutes for the regret to set in, and by the time it does, he realises it's too late. He can't take anything back. It's said, it's done, and Buck will probably never forgive him for it.

They're in the same boat on that one.

~*~

When his phone rings a week later, he's not expecting it to be Maddie.

It's been a nail-bitingly stressful week. He didn't realise how much he'd come to rely on Buck's steadfast presence in his life, and now, his absence gapes like an infected wound.

Chris asks about him constantly, even though Eddie's explained it as best he can. Chris doesn't understand. Eddie doesn't fully understand either. Buck's confession scared him to death, made him angry, pushed him into a corner - so why is he so fucking miserable without the guy? Why does he feel like he'd irrevocably fucked up?

So when Maddie calls, he's fully expecting to be chewed out. He answers the phone with trepidation, with a "Hello?" that sounds clipped even to his own ears.

"Eddie! Hi, it's um, it's Maddie." To Eddie's surprise, she doesn't sound like she wants to chew him out. Just like she's... anxious, maybe?

"Hey. What's up?"

"Um, I was wondering - well, have you noticed anything wrong with Evan?" Maddie is the only person who calls him that. "Or has he - I don't know, has he told you anything? It's just, he seems... he's not himself."

Eddie feels cold, all of a sudden. There's no way Maddie would be calling and asking him if she knew anything, which means - well, it means Buck hasn't told her. For whatever reason, Buck hasn't told her about their supposed break up, and he definitely hasn't told her what Eddie said over the phone the last time they spoke.

(Eddie's phone has remained silent. His message got through loud and clear to Buck, and he's woken every morning since hoping that Buck's hard-headedness prevails and he gives up and messages, tags Eddie in something on Facebook, calls - hell, anything - but there's been total radio silence. And Eddie? Well, Eddie's too much of a coward where it counts to do anything about it.)

"Eddie, he's hardly eating," Maddie says, her voice trembling. "He won't tell me what's wrong-"

"We broke up," Eddie says.

Silence.

"You what?"

"We broke up. He's sad because we broke up." We were never together, Eddie's brain insists while his heart sinks and he feels sick. "I'm sorry, Maddie. I don't think I'm gonna be able to help with this one."

"You don't even care enough anymore to try and make him eat?" And this - this he expected, the edge to her voice, the territorial big sister coming out to kick his ass physically and spiritually. "He - he didn't even tell me, Eddie, whatever happened, you can't just - you can't just have stopped caring about him-?"

"Maddie..." He struggles to find the words amongst the realisation that he feels sick with worry that Buck isn't eating. "I don't think... I don't think me talking to him will make him feel better."

There's another long pause. And then, "You broke up with him."

"Yeah." It feels like having a root canal to have to admit. Even though they didn't really break up, because they weren't together in the first place.

"Okay." Maddie sounds sad. "I hope... well, I hope you guys can be friends one day? You were really good for him, Eddie. He seemed happy. I'm sorry it didn't work out, for whatever reason."

"Yeah," he says. "Me too."

He hangs up after that, running a hand over his face and leaning on the counter. Buck's apparently not eating because he's upset? Half of him wants to call Buck, or text him - check on him and tell him to eat something, even if it's for Maddie's sake.

The other half is angry that it's somehow become his problem.

"Daddy?"

It's Christopher and his hopeful little face, staring up at Eddie from the doorway. "Was that Buck?" he asks, excitement leeching into his voice. "Is he gonna come over?"

"No, mijo," Eddie says, hating the way his kid's face falls. "It wasn't Buck."

The worst part is, Eddie knows if he called and asked Buck to spend time with Chris, he would, in a heartbeat. There's an easy solution to Eddie's problem only it's not accessible for him right now, and that stings. Nobody came out well in this situation.

"Oh." Chris looks down. "Can we call him?"

Eddie sinks onto the floor and beckons Chris closer, until the kid is right in front of him. "Mijo..."

Chris's lip wobbles. "You said you wouldn't get sick of him," he accuses. "I miss him. He was nice to me. Our legs match."

Eddie closes his eyes. "Chris... sometimes when people split up, they can't talk for a while," he says. "And Buck and I can't talk right now."

"But why can't I talk to him? Mommy makes me talk to her and you guys are split up."

"Chris, that's..." God, why is this so hard? Why can't Christopher just understand? "That's different, she's your mom, kiddo, she... has a right to-"

"I don't even remember her being my mom," Chris sniffles. "Buck took me to the park and always hugged me and he remembered my school projects. And he loved me. He said so."

He said so. In Chris's world, there's nothing more than words and words are final, and Buck told Chris he loved him. Eddie's sure he did. So how does he explain this to Chris? How does he explain that sometimes it just doesn't work out.

"I want to see him, Daddy," Chris whimpers. "He'll get scared on his own."

"Scared?" Eddie asks, a little confused and a lot worried.

Chris sniffles, cuddling into Eddie's body. "He said sometimes at night, he gets scared," Chris says. "He says he's scared of the dark like me."

Eddie highly, highly doubts that of all things, the dark is what scares Buck, but he supposes he didn't want Chris to know about what really scares him. Now, he's even more worried than he was when Maddie told him Buck's not eating. "Buck's a grown-up," he says gently, hoping to soothe his kid. "He'll be okay, mijo."

Abruptly, Chris pushes out of his arms. "You don't listen!" he says, angry tears spilling over his cheeks. "He gets scared! He needs us!"

With that, Chris stomps away, and Eddie is very much left with the sensation that he's failed more than one person tonight.

~*~

One miserable, hellish week later, nothing is easier.

Chris is miserable, and he's making it so clear that even his teachers have asked Eddie what's going on. This, ironically, seems to be the time that Shannon becomes less painful to deal with.

It's like she can sense Eddie's misery and is deciding not to pile on it. She backs off when he begs her to, and seems genuinely concerned with Chris's attitude outside of her own involvement in it.

Buck hasn't contacted him at all, and Maddie hasn't tried again either. He did run into Hen at the supermarket, and she just gave him a sad look, which tells him that Buck has either come clean about their "breakup" or that he's so unhappy they all guessed anyway.

Either way, Eddie feels like shit. He still can't bring himself to say anything to Buck - it's been two weeks, or just over, now, and every time he picks up the phone he's terrified that he'll find himself blocked.

It's somehow easier to not know.

This and a few other reasons are why he doesn't necessarily expect his phone to begin blowing up with calls from Buck on Wednesday morning, one after another, relentless, followed by text messages. Eddie doesn't look at any of them, too scared to open them and still somehow angry at the thought that Buck's finally cracked and contacted him.

His brain is so fucked up it's not funny. He's angry at Buck for doing exactly what he wanted Buck to do, which is to break and call him.

The calls from Buck stop. Then they start from a private number, and Eddie just about loses his shit. He's just ripping his gloves off to answer when the most recent one stops.

"Finally," Eddie mutters, putting his phone on do not disturb and returning to what he's doing.

It's half an hour later that he looks over and notices a voicemail left by Chris's school. He just about lunges for the phone at that point, because a call halfway through the school day can't ever be good.

The receptionist answers and he's so terrified he barely hears what she says, blurts out, "My son is a student there, I just missed a call from your office."

"Okay sir, what's your son's name?" The receptionist is stupidly, insufferably perky, Eddie's strung-out brain thinks.

"Chris? Christopher Diaz?"

The silence is deafening. Then, "I'll put you through to the principal."

Oh, fuck.

~*~

Chris was accounted for in his morning classes and, after a short recess, not accounted for.

"How can you lose a kid on crutches?" Eddie demands of the principal. "It's not like he moves very fast!"

"Mr. Diaz, we truly are sorry. The aide immediately realised he had gone-"

"He's a seven year old kid with cerebral palsy who can't get anywhere fast!" Eddie says. "He could be anywhere, Dios, he's out there on his own, he hasn't been on his own before-"

"Chris has been talking about going to see "his Buck"," Chris's homeroom teacher pipes up, her eyes wide at Eddie's outburst. "Would he know how to get to Buck's apartment?"

"No," Eddie says despairingly. "He's only been there once..."

But he's been to the firehouse multiple times, Eddie realises, and the firehouse sits directly opposite a bus route.

"Is there a bus stop near here?" Eddie asks faintly.

"Yeah, there's one right outside the front gate," the homeroom teachers says, blinking confusedly. "Accessibility is important to us-"

"Oh my God, he's going to see Buck," Eddie realises, and takes off for the car.

Buck's going to have a hell of a lot of explaining to do when he gets there.

~*~

Buck's truck is in the carpark of the firehouse, which Eddie screeches into so recklessly he sends stones and gravel flying up from it.

Several people turn around as he slams the door, making a beeline for the trucks. Some even get out of the way and refuse to meet his eyes.

"Buck!" he yells furiously.

Chimney's head pops out from one of the trucks, and he doesn't look surprised to see him, which - "Where the hell is Buck?" Eddie demands.

"I'll tell you once you calm down," Chimney says slowly. "But I'm not letting you go after him like this, he doesn't deserve that."

"Where's Chris, then?" Eddie demands. "This is the only place he would've known to come to, Chim, and Buck's car is in the carpark. Just tell me where-"

He catches a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, and he's almost sick with how quickly he's able to identify it as Buck just from the hair colour and the ringed tattoo on his arm. The moment he does, his vision colours red, and his heart pounds in his ears.

"Buck!" he says.

"Eddie, wait!" Chimney says. Then, to someone else, "Go get Cap-"

Eddie makes a beeline for Buck, who looks very much like a startled baby animal caught in the headlights of a truck.

"Eddie _wait,_ " Buck pleads, his hands up as he backs away from Eddie's approach. "Eddie he's fine-"

"Did you put him up to this?" Eddie demands.

"What? No, I was trying to call you to tell you he was here and you didn't answer-"

"Where is he?" Eddie demands. Some part of him recognises that Buck is still backing away from him, rapidly running out of room with the trucks in the area, something that should deliver a signal to his brain to stop, but he can't. "Where's-"

"Daddy?"

He whips to the side, where Chris is sitting at a small table, a red crayon clutched in his hands. He looks confused to see Eddie, to say the least. And he's - fine, Eddie realises bemusedly - he wasn't sure what he expected, but Chris is fine and drawing on a huge sheet of butcher's paper and has a half-eaten toasted cheese sandwich next to him. He's completely fine and he gave Eddie a fucking heart attack.

"Christopher!"

God, Eddie's never been so relieved in his entire life. He sweeps his kid into a hug, clutches him close, and then sinks to the ground with him. Chris blinks at him, looking equal parts upset and a little petulant.

"Chris, what were you thinking, leaving school like that?" Eddie demands. "Dios, mijo, estaba tan preocupado por ti - cómo has llegado hasta aquí-?"

"I came here myself," Chris says, his voice wobbling with the threat of tears. "I wanted to see Buck!"

Eddie sits back, stunned. "You - Chris, you came here yourself? Why?" From the corner of his eye, he can see Buck moving, very slowly, to the side. He's not coming any closer, Eddie realises distantly. He's just - hovering. What for?

Chris won't even look him in the eye. "Chris," Eddie pleads. "Why would you-"

"I missed Buck and you wouldn't let me see him," Christopher sobs. "Mommy went away and then Bucky went away because you _made_ him!"

Well, Eddie has never felt like a bigger piece of shit in his entire life. Everyone has cleared the firehouse so quickly it's not funny, but undoubtedly at least a few of them saw his little stunt when he walked in.

"I'm sorry, buddy," he murmurs. "I'm really sorry."

"You're not sorry!" Christopher yells. "You made Buck sad! And you made me sad! You promised you wouldn't get sick of him!"

Eddie looks up at Buck, then, remembering that he's still there. His head is down, shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets. His uniform shirt is untucked and unbuttoned, revealing a plain black t-shirt beneath it. He was either just getting ready for the day or just ending it, obviously. He's also - God, he's _noticeably_ thinner than he was two weeks ago, and Eddie's stomach turns.

"Chris, I..."

"You promised!" Christopher yells again, and his voice reverberates through the firehouse. Eddie feels cold and shaken with the sudden realisation that he's done exactly what he never, ever wanted, and he's put his son in the crossfire and hurt his feelings. This is all Eddie. Buck's not to blame for this - hell, if the dozens of missed calls and frantic texts are any indication, Buck tried to tell him Chris was here.

"Buddy," he says quietly, "I really need to talk to Buck, okay?"

"No," Christopher wails. Dios, but Eddie hates this - he hates hearing the pain in his kid's voice, knowing that he's the one who pushed him to the point that he's inconsolable. "I want-"

Buck kneels down on the ground with Christopher, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, pal," he whispers. He's leaning away from being in Eddie's space like there's a forcefield physically keeping him like that, and Eddie wants nothing more than to smash it.

Chris immediately calms at the sound of Buck's voice. "Hi, Bucky," he says, voice wobbling.

Buck tries to smile, but it doesn't look sincere, and his eyes are red and wet. He's clearly trying not to cry. "I know you missed me," he says quietly, adjusting so that he's sitting on his legs. "I really missed you too."

"Then why is it bad I came here?" Chris sounds so lost. Eddie can't feel his body.

Buck sucks in a breath, and it sounds shaky. "Buddy, I am..." And he blinks rapidly, the same blink he does when Eddie knows he's this close to losing it, but he continues anyway. "I am so glad you came to see me, and that you got here safe," Buck whispers. He moves a hand to the back of Chris's neck. "But when you left school, everyone was really worried. They didn't know where you were. Your dad..."

He almost, almost looks at Eddie, and Eddie almost gets the chance to convey how he feels. The moment slips away when Buck keeps his eyes trained on Chris.

"Your dad is just, he's just upset, because he was scared," Buck says. "Don't you get upset when you're scared?"

"Yeah," Chris says, voice wobbling. "That's why I came here."

Buck hangs his head for a moment. When he looks up, a few tears have escaped Buck's determination to keep them at bay. Chris reaches out to pat his face consolingly.

"I'm sorry you're scared, Chris," he says. "I'm sorry it doesn't make sense. I know it hurts. I wish I could make it better for you."

"You can," Chris says, stepping forward a little. Buck's hands, ever-steady when it comes to his son, move to catch him if they need to. "You love me. That makes it better."

Buck appears to be out of words, because he just shuffles close enough to pull Christopher into a tight hug. "I do love you," he whispers, and Eddie feels like he's intruding on a private moment, only he can't force himself to move. "Kiddo... you need to go with your dad, okay?"

Christopher pulls away, sniffles. "Okay."

Buck gets to his feet, backing away a little. Eddie reaches down to pick Chris up, and he's promptly swatted away.

"I can do it," Christopher says.

He's not forgiven for anything, then. That's fine. He doesn't deserve it anyway.

He straps Christopher into the car silently, then heads back to face the music in the firehouse. Buck is standing exactly where he was left, looking very much like he'd like the world to crush him and end it already.

He's also crying, now, properly crying, with tears running down his cheeks and his hands shoved in his pockets. When he sees Eddie, he takes a step back, drops his gaze. Submits. He looks terrible, Eddie realises with a lurch in his gut - he's definitely thinner, and he's almost unnaturally pale. He looks like this, and Eddie did it to him.

"Buck," Eddie says quietly.

"Eddie, I swear I didn't put him up to this," Buck croaks. "I wouldn't, you _know_ I wouldn't-"

Eddie steps forward, reaches out, wants to comfort. Buck flinches and steps back again. Eddie gets the message - he is well and truly not welcome in Buck's space anymore. Not that he deserves to be, anymore, but if he was, he could show Buck he's sorry-

"Buckley."

It's Bobby's voice. Buck turns, stumbling a little with the motion. Bobby jerks his head, and Buck all but runs to the locker room.

"I think it's time you left, Eddie," Bobby says quietly. "Whatever you have to say to him, it's not appropriate for you to say it here."

"I need to make this right, Bobby," Eddie says desperately. "I need-"

"Eddie," Bobby says, gentle but firm, "Buck has more heart than he does sense and he can't have a conversation with you right now. Give him some time."

Eddie rubs his face. "I fucked up so bad," he whispers, voice breaking.

Bobby watches him, infuriatingly impassive. "So fix it," he says. "Give it time, and then fix it."

"How?" Eddie asks weakly.

"Work it out, son." Bobby's face finally betrays something then; his eyes slide to the locker room where Buck disappeared to, a little line of worry between his eyebrows. It's the most Eddie's ever seen him express. "You owe him that much."

~*~

Eddie does call - two days later, with his heart in his throat - but the call goes to voicemail.

Buck hasn't blocked him, which Eddie supposes he should be grateful for, but he's also not answering the phone. He thinks of how pale Buck was, how thin, and takes a chance, sends a text - _Eat something. Maddie is worried_ \- and watches intently for longer than he'll admit for the three little dots to pop up, indicating a response.

They don't, and Buck doesn't have read receipts on. Eddie has no way of knowing whether or not Buck got the message.

He doesn't know what to do about Chris, either. He knows, logically, that he should ground the kid - Chris left school unsupervised and Eddie shudders thinking about all the different things that could've happened - but somehow, he can't bring himself to. He can't help but think he pushed Chris into this.

Instead, he sits down and says, "Why did you run away from school?"

Chris is a Diaz like his father, through and through, and his jaw sets stubbornly. "Christopher," Eddie warns.

"I wanted to see Buck," Chris mumbles petulantly. "You wouldn't let me see him. He looked sad, Daddy. I was gonna go back."

Eddie rubs his face. "How did you get there?" he asks helplessly. "Money-"

"I saved up all my chore money," Chris says. "Please don't be mad, Daddy. I found a map on Google."

Eddie's going to have to tighten the parental controls - Chris is getting too smart for his own good, and Eddie's. "Okay," he says slowly. "Do you understand why I'm upset?"

"Yes," Chris says, sitting forward and staring wide-eyed, "you thought I wasn't safe. But I was! I was with Buck and Chim and Hen and Bobby-"

"You're safe with them, mijo, I don't doubt that," Eddie murmurs. The thing is, he really doesn't - despite it all he knows that Buck would keep Christopher safe no matter the cost to himself. "That's not why I'm worried. What about the bus trip? What if you'd gotten lost?"

Chris is quiet for a moment. Then, "I didn't think of that."

Eddie sighs. "I know you didn't, kiddo. That's my job. I know you wanted to see Buck... I know things have been hard and that you don't understand. I'm gonna try and make it right, okay? I want to see Buck too."

Chris brightens. "If you want to see Buck and I want to see Buck and Buck wants to see us, we can fix it!" he says excitedly. "Let's do it, Dad!"

Eddie smiles, even as his eyes feel hot. Buck hasn't answered his text or his call, and something about that feels like a closed door to Eddie. "Yeah," he says. "Let's do it."

~*~

Truthfully, he's not sure how he's going to fix things with Buck.

He thinks about calling again, but that seems stalkerish, and almost texts, but emotion is lost in translation over message, and he considers going around, but that feels like forcing the issue. He balks at the idea of flowers, because leaving flowers on Buck's doorstep feels like the quickest way to alienate him and anyway, Buck gets hayfever.

"Make him a card," Christopher suggests. "Look, I made him three!"

The problem, Eddie thinks miserably, is not that Christopher needs to apologise by way of carefully drawn Crayola cards. It's that Eddie has to apologise, and he can't think of a way to do it that won't spook Buck, and honestly? Maybe it's better for Buck if he doesn't.

He did exactly what Buck's ex did to him. Lulled him into a sense of security, then hurt him. Hell, Eddie probably doesn't deserve to have Buck around at all. Maybe he should do the right thing and let him go.

And he would, except - he hasn't apologised. And he's always trying to teach Chris that you should apologise to people when you hurt them.

"You know, Daddy," Chris says, "I'll help you make a card for Bucky if you can't draw."

Eddie's throat feels so tight at that, it's hard to breathe for a moment. He's a real dick, and Shannon's a piece of work, but Chris? Chris is such a sweet, genuine, loving kid - he doesn't know how he and Shannon made the little guy.

"Yeah," he says. "Can you teach me?"

"Yes!" Christopher starts rolling his crayons to Eddie. "You start with red!"

~*~

A phone call at five in the morning is never a good thing.

A phone call at five in the morning from your fake ex boyfriend's work colleagues is even worse.

Eddie knows this when Chim's name flashes across the top of his screen, but he somehow finds the compunction to answer, yawning widely. Christopher is with his once-weekly sleepover with abuela, and Eddie's getting ready for work.

"Chim?" Eddie asks. "What's up?"

"Is Buck with you?"

He's about to clip back, angrily, that they all know Buck isn't with him, after his monumental fuck-up at the firehouse, but something in Chimney's tone gives him pause. Chimney doesn't sound judgmental, or angry at him... he sounds scared.

"No," he says slowly. "He's not with me."

"Fuck," Chimney says, and he sounds downright panicked now. "Eddie, have you heard from him? When did you last-"

"I haven't spoken to him since the firehouse." Eddie picks up his jacket and keys; something's wrong. "Chimney, what-"

"Eddie, Maddie's ex-husband showed up at her place today," Chimney says. "She's been stabbed, she's unconscious. Buck was supposed to be with her."

Abruptly, Eddie has to lean on the countertop, head swimming. He hears himself ask a question - doesn't even hear what it is - and Chimney says, "No, Eddie, listen to me. We haven't heard from him because we haven't been able to contact him, and Maddie can't tell us anything. Buck was with her because she was scared about something like this happening-"

"Where are you?" Eddie demands. "Which hospital?"

"Cedars-Sinai, but Eddie-"

"I'm coming to you," he says, flying out the door so fast the hinges rattle threateningly.

"To do what?" Chimney demands. "There's nothing-"

"I'm gonna find Buck and bring him home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TOLD Y'ALL EDDIE WOULD COME THROUGH NOW HE'S GONNA GET HIS MAN


	11. Frayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE, BABES. thanks so much to everyone who left love as usual, and i hope you enjoy the new chapter! we're getting to the comfort part of the hurt soon haha, i promise

Hen is waiting for him in the emergency room, looking oddly relieved to see him for someone who should really hate him.

"Thank God," she says, and pulls him into a hug that startles him with its intensity. "Everyone's through here-"

Maddie is unconscious, as Chimney said, and receiving a blood transfusion. She's been stabbed twice, her head knocked badly enough for her to lose consciousness, but she'll live.

"Eddie, there was a lot of blood," Chim says shakily. "More than what she lost."

"Blood thinners," Eddie realises, feeling cold with terror. If Buck was stabbed, and he's on blood thinners...

"We don't know that Doug has him," Chimney reasons. "But-"

"We have to assume," Eddie replies numbly. "But why? What was the point in taking Buck?" Why, Eddie wonders frantically, would anyone want to hurt Buck, or even try? Buck's six-foot-two of almost sheer muscle, that anyone would look at him and think he was someone they could take-

Unless they've known him a while and know he wouldn't want to fight back for risk of hurting someone, or them hurting his sister.

Chimney shakes his head. That's the moment the door opens again, and Athena enters. Eddie's never seen a woman look so quietly furious, deadly controlled but ready to kill at a moment's notice. It makes him shiver. Athena is a force to be reckoned with.

"We're going to have to move fast to catch this guy," she says. "Is there any way we could know where they're going?'

"Maddie might have an idea on where he'd go, but she can't exactly tell us right now," Chimney murmurs.

"His phone," Eddie says.

Athena turns to look at him. "His what?"

"His phone. He never goes anywhere without it, he's basically psychically attached to it. Could we track it somehow?"

"I'll put a trace on it, see what I can turn up, but that'll take some time," Athena says, already reaching for her phone. "Does anyone here know anything about Doug?"

"No," Eddie says, a slow realisation dawning on him. "But I know Buck. And I know Buck set up Find My iPhone a few weeks ago when he got a new laptop. We could track it that way."

"That's great, but we don't have Buck's laptop," Hen points out. "Or a way to access it-"

"Maddie has a spare key to his apartment," Chimney says, and, after a brief flurry of excitement, groans, sinking into the chair beside Maddie's bed. "And I've just realised I have no idea where she keeps it."

"We don't need to." Eddie stands and grabs his keys. "He keeps a spare in a lockbox attached to the underside of his truck," he explains. "Does anyone know where that is?"

"Maddie's," Chimney says. "I'll text you the address."

"Okay." He stops to look at Athena. "I can get the laptop," he says. "I'll bring it back here-"

"Fine, go," she says. "But you see anything that looks dangerous or like it could be part of a crime scene, Eddie, you call me!"

~*~

Athena stays to sort out the triangulation to Buck's phone and organise whatever resources she needs to, and Eddie breaks half a dozen traffic laws to get to Maddie's place.

Sure enough, Buck's car is there, gleaming from a recent wash. Maddie's is gone, which is odd, seeing as she was home at the time-

"Fuck!" Eddie says, fumbling his phone to dial Athena's number. He slides under Buck's car, punching in the code to the lockbox as he listens to the dial tone, and prays that Buck hasn't forgotten to put the key back.

(He's never wondered why Buck would keep a lockbox attached to his car until now. He figured it was one of those weird Buck idiosyncrasies. Now he gets it.)

"Athena Grant speaking."

"Athena, they're not on foot," Eddie pants, grabbing the key - which is blessedly in place - from the little box. "Maddie's car is gone. I think they've taken it with them."

"I'll get the registration from Chimney," Athena says. "You just get the laptop."

He's back in his car and making the drive to Buck's within seconds of hanging up, grateful that the Buckley siblings live relatively close together. His heart is pounding through his chest, desperate with the hope that he'll get to Buck's and that Buck will be fine and just moping or sleeping or-

He unlocks the door to the apartment and finds total silence.

"Mierda," he curses, running inside and making a beeline for the coffee table. Buck's laptop is closed, and when Eddie opens it, it prompts him for a password.

"Seriously?" he demands. "You don't even put a passcode or face ID on your fucking phone but you put a password on your laptop?"

He tries a few things, all related to Buck's interests. He tries _password_ , which fails, and a string of numbers, until he hits on the idea of trying birthdays.

Maddie's is no-go. So is Buck's own, and Christopher's.

Eddie hesitates, but ultimately plugs his own birthday in.

The screen flashes - WELCOME - and grants him access. His throat feels tight, and he's glad there's no one around to watch him drown in guilt as he pulls up the Find My iPhone function and waits with baited breath, hoping that Buck hasn't turned the feature off.

The screen lights up, pinging Buck's phone to a location already hours away from them. He snatches the entire thing up and heads for the car, beelining it back to the hospital to tell Athena.

They're running on borrowed time.

~*~

"So you're saying his phone pinged on the highway?"

"Yes," Eddie says desperately. "They have to be in a car, and they're already pretty far away."

Athena nods. "Alright. I'm gonna go get in my car and try to pick up the pace, catch up with them - hell, maybe I can spook this guy into letting Buck go. You-"

"I'm coming with you," Eddie says.

"Like hell you are, boy!" Athena says in disbelief. "You think I'm gonna take some random civilian on a wild goose chase with an armed psycho?"

"Athena, Buck thinks I'm still angry at him," Eddie says, and his voice breaks. Buck could die thinking that Eddie's mad and it's something he can't live with. "He thinks we're over. I thought so too but we're not and I'm not leaving him out there."

"Eddie-"

"I won't leave him out there. Take me with you or I'm going to follow anyway."

Athena narrows her eyes, and for a moment, Eddie really thinks he'll be driving there himself. Then she jerks her head and says, "Don't slow me down, Diaz, or we'll be having words."

"Right," he agrees, and follows her out of the hospital, texting his abuela that he needs her to watch Chris for a while longer. He'll owe her for this one, but right now, all he can really think about is that the last expression he ever saw on Buck's face was one of misery, and that he can't let it be the last.

He'll bring Buck home, and then they're going to have to talk.

~*~

"So, what's your grand plan, huh?"

Eddie looks up. Athena's still staring at the road, but her gaze is flinty and Eddie knows he's got some explaining to do. Before he can get to it, though, she speaks again.

"Bring him home, and all is forgiven?" she asks. "Be the knight in shining armour, rescue your boo-"

"That's not the plan," Eddie says blankly. He wonders how much Buck's told them and how much they've guessed - either way, his plan isn't to rug-sweep everything. Honestly, he's been flying on instinct since he found out Buck is gone. "The plan - the plan is to get him home."

"And then what?" Athena asks suspiciously.

"Apologise," Eddie says. "I've been trying to work out how to do it and - nothing feels like enough, you know? I tried calling him, and he didn't answer and I didn't want to keep calling and make things worse for him than what they are. Like, if he's not answering, I don't want to push it. That's not right either."

There's a long silence. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I fucked up," he says. "I know that. Not apologising isn't right but neither is pestering him into accepting an apology... I just want him to be safe. So I'll bring him home, and then - well, I'll follow his lead. But I'm not..."

It's so hard to say it all out loud. To even think about it frazzles Eddie's brain and has him running in circles around his own thoughts. There's a lot of things he wants, and a lot of things he needs, and in amongst that is what Buck wants and needs.

"I think I need therapy," he mumbles, and Athena, out of the corner of his eye, softens. "I think I might've needed it for ages actually."

"Most people need therapy, honey. But it's a good place to start."

Eddie sits back, considering. He's willing to follow Buck's lead on this, but should he? If Buck wants to just forget about it - well, they can't; just trying to forget about it is exactly how his relationships with Shannon went sour, with unspoken resentments and petty arguments followed by big ones followed by deafening silence.

"You know you might have to let him go," Athena says quietly.

"That's fine," Eddie murmurs, and Athena raises her eyebrows. "Not like... it's not fine as in I'm okay with it, it's just... I want him to be okay. If being okay involves not seeing me, that's something I can learn to live with, I think."

Athena doesn't say anything, but Eddie knows her brain is quietly turning. A woman like Athena never has a quiet brain.

~*~

His phone rings some three hours later, startling him.

He's been watching Buck's phone ping on the highway for the majority of the time, not stopping once. They're gaining slowly on it, with Athena pushing the speed limit, but it's going to be a while before they catch up.

It's Chimney. He answers immediately. "Hey," he says.

"Eddie, Maddie's awake," Chimney says, and Eddie can already tell that this is somehow more bad news, on top of the steaming pile of bad news they already have.

"Does she know where they might be going?" Eddie asks. "Or why-"

"Eddie, he's not with Doug," Chimney interrupts. "It's his ex-boyfriend. Matt."

Something weird happens to him in that moment. He remembers how nervous Buck was around the muay thai gym, when he settled only as Eddie kept them walking and said he used to do it, but not anymore - how Buck was so surprised that Eddie cared about pain he might have in his leg that it sent him into contemplative silence for an afternoon - how having to even talk about his ex caused a nightmare bad enough that he went and hid in Eddie's bathroom-

Buck's never outright admitted anything to him. He's never even mentioned the guy's name, but he doesn't have to. All the little puzzle pieces click neatly into place for Eddie then - Buck wasn't just in a dodgy relationship. Summing it up as "he wasn't good to me" was Buck's way of trying to indicate to Eddie what had really happened without saying it aloud.

"Eddie? Are you there?" It's Chimney. "Look, Buck's ex is - Maddie says he's bad news. She's only met him a handful of times, apparently he used to keep Buck pretty under the thumb. She-"

There's a rustle, and then Maddie's voice, thick with tears. "Eddie?" she gasps into the phone.

"Maddie, hi," Eddie says.

"I know you and - and Buck split up," she says, and she's openly sobbing. "But I can't go look for him and - and someone needs to find him, please, Eddie-"

"I'll find him," Eddie breathes, thinking that there was never a universe in which he didn't follow Buck. "Maddie, I'll find him and I'll bring him home."

"This guy is awful, Eddie," Maddie hiccups. "Buck never told me anything but he always looked so scared of this guy and I just - I can't lose him, Eddie, he's all I have left-"

"Maddie, I'm gonna find him," Eddie says, desperate to comfort her somehow. "I'm gonna bring him back, I promise."

The phone goes back to Chimney after that, and Chimney says a bunch of stuff about tracking phones and calls that drain batteries and other stuff that Eddie doesn't really hear past the ringing in his ears. When the call hangs up, he's only got two things on his mind - finding Buck, and possibly killing Buck's ex boyfriend.

"Eddie, where's your head at?" Athena asks carefully.

He doesn't answer, because he knows she won't like the answer. The phone is still pinging out on the highway. How much battery life will it even have by now?

"Eddie!"

He jerks his head up, glaring into Athena's steely eyes. She's looking right back at him, probably the only woman who has ever challenged him like this and been effective in making him want to submit.

"Do not start thinking about doing things you can't take back," she says. "Do not make a decision that'll get you locked up. That boy is gonna need you by his side when he comes through this, and you can't do that from a damn cell."

"Athena, if Buck-"

"You listen to me," Athena snaps. "Buck is alive. He did not survive being crushed by a ladder truck and a pulmonary embolism on top of everything else to lose his life to some maniac. He is alive, and we're gonna find him and bring him home, where he belongs, and if you think any other way you've lost the fight."

She's speaking to him like a drill sergeant would, which is... oddly comforting. There's no room for argument or backchatting, so instead, Eddie straightens his neck and blinks back the few tears that have gathered in his eyes.

"Yes ma'am," he says.

"Good." She aims her eyes back at the road. "Now where is he?"

"Still on the highway," Eddie says, scanning the computer screen. "Moving slower though. If we gun the engine-"

But she already is, and all Eddie can do is stare at the little blue dot on the screen that has become his only proof that Buck might still be alive.

~*~

"Athena, it's stopped moving."

"What?"

Eddie's staring at the screen of the laptop. The little blue dot that is Buck's phone has stopped moving, but hasn't faded from the screen. It's some hours later now and they're not going to have daylight for much longer, and it figures that Matt would need to stop for fuel eventually, but-

"They've stopped moving," he says. "The dot-"

"Eddie, where?" Athena demands. "Where are they?"

He zooms in on the map. "It's a motor inn," he says. "If we drive fast, we can be there in less than half an hour."

"Honey, I'm the law," Athena says, switching the lights and sirens on. "We can go as fast as I want."

~*~

The motel is off the side of the road, in an otherwise empty stretch of snow and trees.

It looks dilapidated and run-down; when they vault out of the car, Eddie notices that some of the windows on the left side are broken, and that there's only one car in the car park. It's not Maddie's.

"Does that mean they're not here?" Eddie asks.

"No, it means he swapped cars," Athena says. "Stay with me here, Eddie."

They push the doors open and enter the check-in lounge. The carpet is a dull, dirty green, and the paint on the walls is bubbling and chipping in places. Behind the counter, a girl in her early twenties is chewing gum.

"Hi," she says, bored. "Room for two?"

"We were wondering if you've had two men through here," Athena says.

The girl rolls her eyes. "Look, the whole idea of this place is that it's discreet, you know? I can't just give out details of our guests. What if you're like a psycho killer?"

Athena pulls her badge out and slams it on the counter. "You can rest assured I'm not," she says dryly, as the girl's eyes go wide.

"O-oh. Uh - two guys?"

"They would've been through here about half an hour ago," Eddie says.

"Well, we only got two guests right now," she says sheepishly. "Uh - I dunno, a really tall guy? He's got dark hair... white guy. And the other's tall too, blonde? Looks like there's something wrong with his eye?"

"Buck," Eddie says.

"Can we have the spare key to their room?" Athena asks.

The girl blinks. "I'm not supposed to give them out," she says uncomfortably. "And my manager is taking like a stupid long break-"

"You can tell your manager I forced your hand then, sweetie," Athena says, raising her eyebrows, and within the next thirty seconds they have a room key and directions on how to find it.

"Stay behind me," Athena says, drawing her firearm. "We don't know if this guy is armed, or what we might be walking into. You're still a civilian here."

Eddie grits his teeth and says nothing because hell, at least he's here.

They don't need the key, as it turns out. When they reach the door, it's gaping open, and Buck's phone is lying in the hallway outside, lit up with dozens of texts and calls.

"Police!" Athena calls, kicking the door all the way open. "Come out with your hands up!"

There's no one in the room, not that it would be easy to tell - because the room, as it is, has been destroyed.

Eddie's mouth feels dry as he takes in the wreckage of the place, with Athena walking ahead to clear the tiny bathroom area. He's not sure what Buck's ex looks like, really, but Buck himself is six-two and about one hundred and ninety pounds; two full grown males fighting in a room this size would have to attract some kind of attention.

"I'm going to go check outside," Athena says. "No one is in here - but have a look around, see if you can find anything... don't touch, though. We might need it as evidence later."

"Okay," Eddie croaks.

The mattress is sideways on the bed. The little dining table is broken, and there are pieces of shattered lamp everywhere. Obviously, there's been a physical altercation - a serious one, if the damage is anything to go by.

But, he realises, Buck fought back. He had to have fought back with the damage. Which means he's alive, at the moment, and capable of trying to defend himself.

"Eddie!"

Eddie scans the room once more, desperate to find some sort of a clue, but there's nothing. He follows the sound of Athena's voice out into the shabby hallway with its green carpet, and then out the back, through an emergency exit, into the snow.

She's standing behind a shed, and behind the shed is the body of a man wearing only a long-sleeved shirt and slacks. He's wearing a name badge, though Eddie can't read it, and suddenly the desk clerk's comment about her boss's break taking forever makes sense.

There's blood everywhere. There's too much blood for anyone to have survived the wound.

He's a medic through and through, and he's on his knees in the snow and checking for a pulse without thought to the snow melting into his jeans. There is none, but the body is still warm, and the man's arms don't seem stiff.

"This was recent," he says to Athena. "This-"

She's not looking at him. She's staring out into the snow, where there's two sets of fresh tracks. One set loops several times - the footprints are long, jagged, as if the person was running, and continues to a point about twenty yards away. Then they stop and turn back.

"Buck," he realises hollowly. "He would've come back to try and help."

The follow the tracks carefully. Buck's footsteps are all over the place - dragging, messy things that have panic and desperation written all over them. After doubling back, there's a patch of snow totally disturbed, about five feet from the body.

"They had a fight here," Athena says. "Then it looks like..."

There's only one set of prints, now, and, right next to them, drag marks.

Eddie's breathing constricts abruptly. There, in the snow, is a rock, stained with blood and dropped near the initial disturbed snow is. There's droplets of blood in the snow, continuing down the hillside and path.

Whatever scuffle there was, Eddie's sure Buck lost it - because Buck wouldn't have a reason to hit Matt in the head and drag him further from the main road, away from help.

"I'm calling for backup," Athena says. "You wait - Eddie!"

He takes off down the hillside, following the drag marks and the blood splatters and praying to every single higher power that he's not too late. This all happened so recently, and Matt kidnapped Buck in the first place instead of killing him, so why would he go ahead and-

Halfway down the hillside, the drag marks stop, and there's another flurry of disturbed snow. Another struggle, which then diverges into two separate sets of footprints.

"He got up," Eddie breathes. "Dios, he - BUCK!"

He's almost falling down the hillside, now, headed straight for the trees and the steep drop off the side. It's so cold his lungs feel like they're freezing from the inside out, and he falls more than once.

"Buck!" he bellows, stopping briefly to listen for a returning call. He can only hear his own voice echoing, hopes that it signals to Matt, at the very least, that Buck's not alone anymore, that someone is coming for him-

The more panicked set of prints stumbles, then gets back up, moving slower. Buck's hurt, Eddie can see that much, and obviously the injury is taking a toll on him.

"Buck, just scream!" he yells into the silence. "Just scream, I'm coming-"

There's signs of struggle everywhere, drops of blood and dragging marks and disturbed foliage. Eddie has no idea what he's walking into - Matt could be armed - but he just doesn't care.

"Buck!" he yells.

Something moves in the treeline. Eddie's brain almost dismisses it as a deer, or a bird, or just movement from the wind. Then he focusses on it more.

"Oh my God," he says. "Buck!"

He'd recognise that head of blonde hair anywhere.

He careens down the remainder of the slope recklessly. For one heart-stopping, terrifying moment, Buck doesn't move. He calls out again - "Buck?" and there's sudden movement - Buck, struggling to get to his feet, wobbly and coltish.

"Eddie?" Buck calls weakly. His voice is so quiet, so wrecked, that even in the stillness and silence Eddie wouldn't have been able to hear him callling.

He takes a few, wobbling steps forward, one arm braced over his side, and is about to fall right back into the snow before Eddie reaches him, catches him, crashing into him with the effort of reaching him and keeping him upright.

"I got you, I got you." And he does - he winds his arms around Buck's body, drags him in close, tries to blanket him in warmth. Buck's shaking so hard Eddie can hear his teeth chattering, his breath whining out through his voicebox like a panicked animal, like he wants to cry and doesn't have the energy for it.

"Matt," Buck rasps, attempting to struggle upright. "Matt, Eddie-"

"I know, Buck, I know-"

"I fought back," Buck croaks, his whole body rocking around what might have been a sob, if he'd had more to give to it.

"What? What, no, of course you did, hermoso, you did so good, estoy tan contento de que estés vivo - are you cold? - voy a sacarte de aquí-"

He shifts, and Buck gives a sharp gasp, and when Eddie pulls away he notices that Buck's bright white henley is stained red at the side and that the snow behind them is dropped with it, and his whole world blurs down to Buck's shivering, gasping form. When he lifts the shirt, he feels sick at the sight - the blood has run down Buck's jeans and the edges of the wound are angry and inflamed, pulsing blood.

"Oh, dios, no," Eddie breathes. Then he sees Buck's head and the blood matting his blonde curls down on one side, streaked onto his neck, that it's bright red and looks fresh. "Cómo pasó esto? How long have you been bleeding for?"

"Not long," Buck croaks. "Eddie, you have to go, Matt's still-"

"I don't give a shit about Matt, God, Buck, we have to get you out of here-"

He dials 911 and orders an ambulance, grateful beyond belief that he remembers the trail markers and where they are on the track. Then he strips down until he gets to his undershirt, rips it up and presses it to Buck's side.

Buck - who's been blinking at him, wordless but focussed - cries out in pain. "Lo siento," Eddie says, tugging Buck close. "Lo siento - no quise lastimarte-"

"Eddie, Matt," Buck says weakly. "Matt-"

"Buck, where is he?" He's dialling Athena now, an afterthought, to let her know he has Buck. "What happened?" Buck is so adamant on telling him something about Matt it has to be important, but right now, he's more concerned with the blood loss and cold.

"Back there," Buck says, voice trembling. "Somewhere."

"Eddie!" Athena's voice rings sharp across the phone. "Where-"

"I've got Buck," Eddie says. "He's alive, I've got him, there's an ambulance on the way."

"How bad is it?"

"It's bad," Eddie says, because he used to be a field medic. "He's lost a lot of blood. I've got pressure on it but I don't know how long-"

"I'm coming to you," she says briskly.

"No," Eddie says, raising his head as he hears sirens. "No, the ambulance is already here - follow along behind us. I've got him, Athena, I'll stay with him-"

"Eddie, what about Matt?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him. Buck said he's somewhere in the woods. There's-" The world swims, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling Buck's scent from where he's leaning on Eddie's shoulder. It grounds him, for just a moment. "There's a trail of blood into the woods," he grits out. "If you follow it-"

"It'll lead me there. You just stay with your boo, Eddie."

He hangs up, drags Buck into his lap to get him out of the snow, keeps pressure on the wound in his side. "I got you," he whispers, and Buck shakes against him. "I got you."

~*~

The ambulance shakes on the way up the mountain.

Buck's been divested of his shirt, which is too bloody to be saved, and the wound has been packed with bandages until they can reach the closest hospital.

"Stay with me, Buck," Eddie says uneasily. Buck's got oxygen tubes looped around his face and into his nose, and he blinks up at Eddie blearily. A shiver wracks his body, and Eddie strips out of his jacket, puts it across Buck's torso. He's already got lines running into the back of his hand and his elbow, and there are pads on his chest, taking his heart rate. Every time he moves, the machine beeps noisily.

Without his shirt, Eddie can see Buck is covered in livid bruises. One in particular, on his ribs, is shaped like a shoe. It looks like it hurts Buck to breathe.

"How far away are we?" Eddie asks the paramedic.

"Twenty minutes," he says quietly. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

They go over a bump. Buck winces, and Eddie leans in closer, taking up Buck's vision until he sees him focus.

"That's it, Buckaroo," he says. "Just keep looking at me."

Buck keeps looking, but he's fading, and it's pretty clear to both Eddie and the paramedic. The other man looks at him, then murmurs, "Talk to him. Keep him conscious."

Buck's eyelashes flutter. His gaze has gone foggy, and he's still bone white. Shock, cold - Eddie isn't sure. Maybe a combination of both. And he doesn't know what to say, because the last time they talked Buck all but ran away from him and Eddie doesn't know what to do. Buck needs him and he's falling through.

Buck's eyelids begin to drop again, and Eddie leans forward quickly enough to rattle the bed. It has the desired effect of getting Buck to keep them open.

"Keep those pretty eyes open, Buck," he says softly. "You know the drill."

Buck blinks rapidly, refocuses, and lets his gaze settle on Eddie. There's blood streaked into the pillow from the wound on his head, and his hair is matted down with it. The heart rate monitor beeps uneasily next to them. Even though Buck is keeping his eyes fixed on Eddie's face, he's yet to say anything, and it's clear he's struggling.

"Hey," Eddie says. "You think you had a rough day? I had to beg Athena to bring me with her. She's a scary lady, Buck. And I'm not dressed for snow."

Buck gives him a wobbly, bloodstained smile. "Me neither," he says, voice tremulous, and Eddie barks out a surprised laugh. His jacket is across Buck's torso, but Buck is still shivering. While it pains him to see, Eddie has to remind himself that Buck shivering is good, and that if he stops, they have a problem.

"Buck," Eddie says softly, "what happened?"

Buck blinks wearily, tries to lick his lips. "Security system at Maddie's," he croaks. "It triggered. Maddie... she went out to look. Thought it was pizza." His eyes drift for a moment, and Eddie opens his mouth to tell Buck to stay with him again, but Buck refocusses. "Heard her scream... went out. Found her." His voice shakes; he blinks. "Something hit me. Woke up in the car." He drags in an agonisingly difficult-sounding breath. "Don't remember much."

"Someone must've called the ambulance when they heard her scream," Eddie realises. "Did he knock you out?"

"I think so." Buck blinks again; he's fighting to stay awake, and Eddie's heart swells, knowing how truly and bone achingly tired Buck must be. "She got stabbed... tried to call 911. Got hit. I was too confused." His voice breaks at the end.

Eddie swallows convulsively. God, will the Buckley siblings ever catch a break? "Well," Eddie says, voice thick, "Maddie will be really happy to see you. She's been worried."

Buck stares at him for a moment, and then his face crumples, tears spilling out over his cheeks and cutting lines through the blood on his face. "Maddie's alive?" he whimpers.

"Dios, Buck," Eddie whispers, leaning over to stroke Buck's face. "Yeah, Maddie's alive! Chimney was with her. She's so worried about you, she'll be so happy you're okay-"

"Thought I got her killed," Buck gasps.

"You didn't, you didn't - easy, cariño, just breathe for me. It's alright. Everything's gonna be fine now."

The paramedic sitting near them - who has been working silently and professionally the whole time - meets Eddie's eyes. "Mr. Diaz," he murmurs, "I'd like to ask your partner some questions."

Eddie doesn't correct him, and Buck's eyes slip closed. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, ask away."

"Mr. Buckley?" When that doesn't work, the paramedic leans over and rubs Buck's sternum lightly. "Buck?"

Buck blinks his eyes back open. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"That's alright. I know you're tired, but I need you to try and stay awake for me, okay? Can you do that?"

Buck nods minutely.

"Okay. I'm going to ask you some questions. You know the drill. What year is it?"

"Twenty-twenty," Buck mumbles. No hesitation - Eddie feels hope bloom for the first time all day. If Buck can answer these three questions, his chances are good.

"And can you tell me what day it is?"

The silence that fills the ambulance when Eddie expects Buck to answer is deafening. It drags for a moment, with Buck turning his head to look at Eddie, and then back to the paramedic.

"Wednesday?" he tries.

Eddie feels cold. Not only is it Sunday, but he can tell from the tone of Buck's voice to his expression that Wednesday wasn't even a calculated guess. He has no idea what day it is.

"It's Sunday, Buck," the paramedic says quietly.

"Oh." Buck swallows. "Um, sorry."

Eddie hears the paramedic asking some more questions, but his gaze is drawn to Buck's head. There's a gauge in it so deep it's going to need sutures, and it's still bleeding, albeit sluggishly now. The pillow under Buck's head is a mess. He had to have hit it on something, hard, if his inability to remember the date or day is any indication.

"... birthday?"

The paramedic's voice has filtered back in. Buck's voice rasps, "November. Um, the seventeenth. Nineteen... nineteen eighty... seven?"

That's not Buck's birthday, it's Eddie's. The paramedic looks at him, then smiles faintly.

God, but Buck looks tired. There'll be time to figure out what happened properly - all Eddie knows is that Matt is somewhere in the snow and Buck is here, alive, and that he's done hiding his feelings. He's finished with it, totally. He needs Buck to know how he feels.

"Eddie," Buck says.

"Yeah?"

Buck's tongue darts out to try and wet his lips, but they're dry when he's done. Dehydration, Eddie realises with a lurch of the gut. "I tried to call you," he croaks.

"I - what? I don't have-"

"When Chris came to the firehouse." Buck blinks, a prolonged movement. Eddie wants to shake him to keep him awake. "I called. Tried to tell you."

Eddie's throat closes abruptly. "I know you did, Buck-"

"Called the school," Buck breathes, wincing as they go over another bump. "When you didn't answer. Called the school. Knew you'd answer them." His eyes slip a little, and Eddie actually does shake him a little this time, just his shoulder.

"Buck, stay awake," he says firmly, trying not to let how tear-logged his voice sound affect how he's talking. "Keep your eyes open, keep looking at me."

"I didn't put him up to it," Buck mumbles.

"What's happening?" Eddie demands of the paramedic.

"He's going into shock," the paramedic says stiffly. Eddie knows that tone - it's the tone of a medic working tirelessly to save their patient, one who isn't sure they'll win. "Keep him talking."

"I know you didn't put him up to it," Eddie says. "Buck, I know you didn't, okay? I know that you were trying to call me to tell me Chris was with you-"

"Knew you'd worry," Buck's voice comes tremulously. "I'm sorry."

"What for? Buck-"

"I fucked everything up." Buck's on the verge of tears now, and blinking is making his eyelashes wet. "I always fuck everything up - but I thought maybe this time - I wouldn't."

"It wasn't you, Buck-"

"I'm really tired," Buck interrupts weakly.

Eddie blinks back tears. "I know, mí amor," he says, and leans forward to stroke his hand through the short hairs at the front of Buck's head. His hand comes away bloody; Buck blinks, and a few tears roll down the sides of his face. "Stay with me, Buck. Just a little longer."

"I'll try," Buck mumbles.

~*~

Buck does try, but he loses the fight for consciousness when they're five minutes out from the closest available hospital.

He's rushed in through the doors with both paramedics speaking in clipped tones, using language that Eddie understands, but has trouble applying in context. His brain feels like a sponge. He's tired and cold and Buck is-

His phone rings. Athena.

"Hey," he says, exhausted even to his own ears. "We're at the hospital. Buck's in emergency surgery."

He hears a sigh on the other end. Then, "Eddie, we found Matt."

Eddie kind of hadn't thought about Matt at all since finding Buck. "And?" he asks, voice hard.

He hears Athena sigh. "He's alive," she says. "But it's not looking good. Looks like he fell down a ravine during the scuffle, knocked his head pretty bad. He's in a coma. The doctors don't seem to think he'll make it."

"Good," Eddie says simply.

"How's our boy?" Athena asks, very quickly moving on from the topic of Matt.

"In surgery." Eddie licks his lips. "He's been stabbed at least once. We don't know how that happened - maybe in that last fight they had. And there's, God, Athena, there's this cut on his head - he's been bashed with a rock twice, he lost consciousness on the way here." He blinks back tears. "They're stabilising him now."

"Let me know when you're coming back, boo," Athena says softly. "You just do what you need to to get through this. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," he says.

He's in the waiting room for a while, before someone comes and finds him and tells him they're airlifting Buck back to Cedars-Sinai. Eddie's loaded in along with him, and he finds a patch of skin not covered by tubes or wires to hold onto for the duration of the trip.

His first thought, when Buck is settled in for more surgery back in L.A, is that he needs to tell Maddie what's going on.

He's scared to face her, but he knows he has to. When he enters the room, Chimney is there, and Maddie looks like hell but she sits up, watery eyes trained on him.

"Buck's alive," he says. "He's in emergency surgery. Matt's - well, Matt's alive too, but he's in a coma and he's probably not going to make it."

Maddie bursts into tears, and Chimney surprises him by wrapping him in a hug. He's passed off to Maddie, after that, who clings to him and thanks him more than he deserves.

He doesn't remember much after that. He sits in Maddie's room and holds her hand for a long time, and they fall asleep, both worrying about Buck. When he wakes, it's because Chimney has come in, looking very carefully blank.

"Buck's in the I.C.U," he says quietly. "The doctors want to speak to you."

"I can't," Eddie says blankly. "I'm not on his emergency contacts-"

"I gave them authority to release information to you," Maddie says. "Eddie, please go find out how he is. Please?"

Eddie does, feeling leaden, weighted down by responsibility and grief. He finds Buck's bed easily, and while he's not intubated, it looks fairly serious. He was stabbed, Eddie knows that much, and then there's the wound to his head, which has been closed with several black surgical staples and looks nasty.

"Mr. Diaz?"

He turns. The doctor is a small Asian man, wearing a kind smile. "I'm Mr. Buckley's doctor," he says. "I wanted to update you on his condition."

"Which is?" Eddie asks uneasily.

"I won't lie to you, sir. He's in for a rough recovery. But he did make it through surgery, and that's good. We're going to be moving him down to the regular ward if he's stable after twenty-four hours."

The doctor tells him more, but Eddie's more focussed on him saying that Buck will be moved shortly. He hardly hears it when the doctor tells him to go home and rest.

"I can't," Eddie says blankly. "He needs me-"

"He's going to need you focussed and able to help him when he wakes, Mr. Diaz," the doctor says softly. "Go home. Rest. We'll keep you updated."

He stumbles back to Maddie's room, who tells him to go home and sleep and that Buck wouldn't want him suffering and exhausted. He does, and Chris is still with Pepa and the house is so quiet that he passes out immediately.


	12. Midway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we have the start of the healing process, folks! both emotionally and physically, the comfort to all the hurt ^_^ this and chapter 13 are where Buck and Eddie do most of their communicating and sorting things out - it's been my favourite two chapters to write so far.
> 
> Enjoy!

When he wakes, fifteen hours have passed.

He feels well rested, gets up immediately and goes to reassure Chris he's okay before returning to the hospital. He tells Chris that Buck is "sleeping" which isn't exactly a lie but makes him feel guilty all the same.

He stops by Maddie's room with flowers. Chimney is there, asleep with his head on Maddie's mattress. Maddie kisses Eddie's cheek and says, "Please go sit with him. I know things have been bad, but I think he'd like it if you were there."

He does, only because he's asked.

Buck has been moved into a regular ward. Eddie takes a moment to stare at him - at the mask over his face, at the row of jagged black staples in his head, holding his skin together, at the bags of medication and saline flowing into his body through tubes, the wires that are connected to his chest.

He stands outside the room, blank, chilled. A hand touches his arm.

When he turns, Shannon is standing there, wide-eyed and blinking at him. He feels rage bubble up immediately, a geyser that's been tamped down from days of having to keep his shit together to help Buck, and he says, "I'm not doing this right now, Shannon. Not here, not with you-"

"I brought coffee," Shannon says, wide eyed, holding up a tray filled with cups.

Eddie blinks.

She looks shaken by his outburst, but continues anyway. "I just - I thought you might be tired. And hungry. This isn't a play at anything, Eddie."

"How did you know I was here?" he asks.

"I went around to your place," she says guiltily. "Your abuela told me you were here."

Eddie doesn't know what to make of that - any part of it, from the going around part to the being here for some reason part. "Why are you doing this?" he asks blankly. "After everything-"

She smiles weakly. "You love him."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He opens his mouth, but there's no sound. Buck nearly died, could still die, thinking Eddie is angry at him for saying I love you - and now Eddie realises it's because he returned the sentiment all along.

"How did you know?"

"Everyone knows, Eddie."

"I screwed it up," Eddie admits, his voice breaking. "He told me and I got so angry at him, we haven't spoken in two weeks, and now he could die thinking I'm still angry."

"He loves you too, you know," Shannon says. "He really does. I could tell he did that night I came over and he stepped between us. He didn't even need to think about it. I've just been angry because... I wish someone could love me that much." She shakes her head. "That's not the point. If you apologise, and you mean it, he'll forgive you."

"That's not my point," Eddie says. "Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe I don't deserve to be forgiven."

Eddie looks back into Buck's room. His head is lolled to one side, oxygen mask firmly in place. Beneath the blankets, Eddie knows he's damaged to such a degree the doctors are eyeing Eddie sadly when he comes in and out of the room.

He takes one of the coffees from the tray, staring into Buck's room like peeling his eyes away could have terrible consequences.

Everyone knows, Shannon had said.

Eddie can only hope that means Buck too.

~*~

He must fall asleep at Buck's bedside, because when he wakes, Buck has somehow rolled onto his side.

It makes Eddie's whole body lurch. Buck has rolled, which is good. The mask is still in place, and his fingers are tangled around Eddie's. Nearby, Buck's heart monitor beeps softly, evenly.

Eddie looks up. Buck's vitals are good.

A nurse is pottering around nearby, and looks up when she hears Eddie stir. "He moved during the night," she whispers. "Came around a little bit, looking for you. I didn't want to disturb you. I suspect he'll be unconscious for the majority of the next few days."

Eddie rubs his face and nods. Trust Buck to just roll over, grab his hand, and fall asleep again. It's not as if Eddie isn't aware how this works - being unconscious or drugged is different from being actually asleep, and Buck's body will be working overtime to fix the damage done to him by Matt, by being exposed to the snow and cold.

"How was he?" he asks.

"Oh, he was a mite uncomfortable," she says. She's got a heavy Scottish accent, and her nametag reads Siobhan. "He was certainly happy to see you , though."

Eddie smiles guiltily. The last time they spoke, he was angry. Furious, even, directed it at Buck because he didn't know how to manage his own feelings. Still, Buck's rolled over sometime during the night and grabbed his hand, and the nurse said he was happy to see Eddie. God knows why.

Eddie rubs his face and yawns. "What's the diagnosis?" he asks quietly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, love," Siobhan says with a gentle smile. "But I'll go fetch the doctor for you. I suspect you've been worried."

Eddie smiles faintly. "Just a little."

She pats his shoulder as she leaves, and Eddie turns his attention back to Buck. There's a row of staples curling up into his head, stark and black against the blonde hair and pale skin, and Eddie can see bruises winding down the back of his neck and into the hospital gown.

"You're gonna be the end of me," Eddie sighs. "If you ever want to see me again, that is."

The hospital gown has left Buck's back exposed to the air, and as Eddie watches, he sees a shiver ripple its way up Buck's body. He stands, finds an extra blanket, and tosses it over him properly. He feels a brief flash of fury - whatever Matt did to him, it clearly caused some damage, because Buck is black and blue. 

There's a knock, and the doctor enters, an older Asian man who makes Eddie feel like a giant. "Edmundo?" he asks. "I think we spoke while Mr. Buckley was in the ICU."

Eddie winces. "Just Eddie," he says, reaching out to shake the doctor's hand. "And yeah, we did. How's he doing?"

The doctor did tell him, but Eddie was half underwater and insane with worry. He doesn't really remember a discussion of Buck's injuries. He knows it happened, but its contents are lost to him.

"I won't lie to you, Mr. Diaz," the doctor says. "He sustained some fairly nasty injuries, and the surgery took longer than expected. Having said that, I'm cautiously optimistic that he'll make a full recovery physically."

"There's a but in there somewhere," Eddie says.

The doctor - Vincent Ng, his nametag reads - sighs and nods. "Yes," he says. "He sustained a fairly severe head injury. It appears he's moved, but we won't be able to tell if he's got brain damage until he wakes fully and we're able to assess him."

The room feels a little like it's spinning. "Brain damage?" Eddie croaks. "What? His head doesn't even-"

Dr. Ng gestures at the staples in Buck's skull. "He has a fractured skull," he says, "and was unable to answer a lot of the questions asked of him in the ambulance. Mr. Diaz, I feel I should warn you... he might not be the man you recognise when he wakes up."

Eddie looks down at Buck's sleeping body. His head is barely on the pillow anymore, and the oxygen mask is fogging up with his breath. His eyelashes are casting shadows on his cheeks, and his curls are limp. He already doesn't look like the Buck Eddie knows and loves.

"Okay," he hears himself say. "So what's the damage? Physically?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Dr. Ng says, looking at his chart. "He's got several fractured ribs by the looks of it, but the most serious was the stab wound to his torso. It wasn't especially deep, but his spleen had to be removed entirely. He's got a long recovery ahead of him regardless of potential brain injury, but I do think he'll make a full one."

"Okay," Eddie breathes. "But, you know, full recovery is-?"

Dr. Ng shakes his head. "He's likely to be in and out of consciousness for the next few days, and very groggy. We're keeping him on morphine to keep him comfortable, but we'll have to start weaning him off it relatively soon."

Eddie winces. Morphine is addictive, and the first day dropping the dosage is always the worst. While he has no doubt Buck will be wanting to get off it almost immediately, it'll be a rough ride.

"He rolled over," Eddie says. "That's good, right?"

The doctor hesitates. He clearly doesn't want to get Eddie's hopes up. "Mr. Diaz," he says slowly, "I cannot stress enough that Buck has a traumatic head injury, among several other compounding issues. Many of the brain's functions are autonomous. Rolling over is one of them."

_He rolled towards me_ , Eddie wants to protest. _He rolled towards me and he grabbed my hand_. "The nurse," he says. "She said he woke up..."

"He was exhibiting signs of consciousness, yes. However, he wasn't able to tell us where he was, nor the day or the year."

The day can be an unfair question, Eddie knows. But the year? Buck should know the year. He knew the year in the ambulance.

Dr. Ng pats his shoulder gently. "We'll assess when he regains consciousness properly, son," he says softly. "By the sounds of it, Evan's a fighter. He's been here more than once, and he's walked out every time."

Eddie nods, and the doctor leaves. He sits there for a long time, watching Buck breathe, replaying the last thing he'd ever said to Buck before he went missing over and over again.

There's a knock.

He looks up, spotting Bobby in the doorway. He looks exhausted.

"Hi, Eddie," he says. "Mind if I come in?"

Eddie shakes his head. Bobby takes up another seat, casting his eyes over Buck. His gaze lingers on their joined hands.

"How is he?"

"Not great," Eddie says truthfully.

Bobby nods. "You look exhausted, kid," he says. "Why don't you go get some sleep? I can watch over him."

"No," Eddie says, blinking quickly. "I don't want him to wake up alone."

"You mean you don't want him to wake up without you," Bobby counters, and Eddie flinches guiltily. "It's alright, I get it. I don't blame you. But he's going to need you to be strong when he does eventually come round."

"I can sleep here," Eddie says.

"You know," Bobby said, "I did this once. The bedside vigil over an injured loved one." He shakes his head. "Didn't do anyone any favours, especially not them."

"Why aren't you angry at me?" Eddie demands. "I broke his heart-"

"And he survived," Bobby counters. "You went looking for him, Eddie. Dropped everything the moment you realised he was in danger. You don't have to say you love him for us to realise it. When he wakes up, he'll realise too."

Eddie rubs his face, clutches Buck's hand just that little tighter. "I didn't make things right with him before it - before it happened," he admits, quietly, even though it feels like pulling teeth. "I was so scared, I..."

Bobby nods along with him. He looks sympathetic, if anything, not judgmental. "You know... things did get messy, Eddie. And you did hurt him. There's some fixing to do, especially with the team - showing them that you do love him. But this?" He gestures at their joined hands. "This is a pretty good start," he says kindly.

"The doctor said he might not even be the person we recognise when he wakes up," Eddie says, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to live with that?"

Bobby puts a hand on his shoulder. "Take it day by day, son," he says quietly. "We'll all be right beside you while you do."

~*~

There's an influx of visitors. Buck is unconscious through it all, even Maddie, who wheels herself in and promptly begins to sob when she sees Buck.

It feels like it hurts Eddie's soul, to watch her pillow her head near Buck's face and stroke over his head gently, avoiding the staples in it. "I'm his big sister," she cries. "I'm supposed to protect him and I just, I completely failed him-"

"This isn't your fault," Eddie says. "He was staying with you because you thought Doug might come back... between you and whatever was gonna hurt you was exactly where he wanted to be. Nobody could've known it'd be his ex."

She looks up at him and smiles tremulously. "Thanks, Eddie."

They sit in silence for a while, listening to Buck's breathing through the mask and watching it mist with his breath. Then Eddie says, "Why did you give the doctors permission to talk to me? The last time we really spoke-"

"He never stopped caring," Maddie says. "When I talked shit about you - sorry, sisterly duties and all that - he defended you. Said he'd caught you off guard and that you didn't deserve to be hated for it. He wouldn't have wanted me to hold a grudge. Plus... you went looking for him, Eddie."

"What else was I gonna do?" Eddie asks uncomfortably.

Maddie turns to look at him, and even though her and Buck look almost nothing alike, she pins him with an expression he's all too familiar with. It's the patented Buckley _I see you and I'm not going to let you pretend I don't_ expression. "I don't know, stay home? Like a normal person would have? Matt stabbed me and you knew he'd taken Buck and you still went looking. He might've killed you if he'd found you."

"I didn't think about it," Eddie admits.

"That's why," Maddie says. "Because you don't when it comes to him. You might've been angry, but you went after him."

Eddie thinks about that for a moment, rubbing his thumb gently across Buck's skin. "Yeah," he says eventually. "I - I couldn't... let him think I was still mad."

Maddie shakes her head. "You love him," she points out.

"You're the second person to tell me," Eddie jokes weakly. "Apparently I'm the last one to figure it out. Too bad I fucked it up."

"You didn't," Maddie murmurs, shaking her head. "When he wakes up... if he's in any state to talk about it, that is... just... explain. He'll listen to you, at least. Maybe then you guys can... start working towards something again. If that's what you both want."

She seems to know that Eddie doesn't know how to respond to that, and clears her throat. "What I don't understand is how he survived on blood thinners," she murmurs, stroking Buck's forehead.

Eddie shakes his head. "Wasn't on them," he replies. "He takes them as soon as he gets up in the morning. He'd been at your place, right? And Matt got him the next morning. By the time we found him it was almost a full day later."

"They were out of his system?"

"Yeah. Doc said before that they could barely find a trace of them. If he'd been smaller..."

They both look at Buck. Eddie swallows. If Buck had been smaller, less determined, less brave, less motivated to live...

"Don't think about it," Maddie says, and reaches out to hold his other hand. "He's alive. We can work with that."

~*~

A day later, Eddie is still firmly situated at Buck's bedside when the fingers on the hand he's holding twitch.

"Buck?" Eddie asks.

The fingers move again, more purposefully. Eddie hits the call button for the nurse and stands, leaning over Buck slowly - he's been rolled from one side to the other as he rests to prevent bed sores, and right now, he's on his left side. His leg will hurt, Eddie had thought at the time.

The door opens, and the nurse enters. "I think he's waking up," Eddie whispers, just as Buck's fingers clench and his eyes drift halfway open.

"Hey, Buck," Eddie whispers. Buck's eyes are open, but they're not focussed, and something seems blank. Eddie's stomach lurches. "Buck?"

"Give him a moment," the nurse says softly. "He's been heavily sedated for a while now, with a concussion. It'll take him a moment to get things working again."

Eddie knows that, logically. But he also knows he loves Buck and can't stand that blank look or the doctor being right about him not being the Buck Eddie knew before, and he raises his hand to stroke Buck's temple with his thumb. His eyes blur.

"C'mon, Buckaroo," he whispers. "Come back."

"Sir..." the nurse says uneasily.

"He's fine. He's got his eyes open so-"

"Sir, if you're going to continue to push him, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. It's not good for-"

Buck's hand moves, and he raises his arm to grip Eddie's wrist weakly. He blinks - a prolonged movement that makes Eddie think he's lost consciousness again, but when his eyes open they're a little brighter.

More aware.

"Buck?" Eddie asks, stroking Buck's temple again. Buck's eyes clear, finally, and he blinks - quickly, this time, like he's trying to rouse himself. He drops his hand from Eddie's wrist, pawing weakly at the oxygen mask.

"No, that's gotta stay," Eddie says hurriedly, taking Buck's hand in his own. "That's gotta stay, Buck."

"Eddie," Buck croaks.

Relief floods his system, and he hangs his head. Buck recognises him. Which means Buck will be about two seconds away from shoving him out of the room, but hell, Eddie will take what he can get. "Hey," he whispers.

He sees Buck's tongue dart out to try and wet his lips, but he has to be parched. His brows furrow.

"I'll get him some ice," the nurse whispers.

"Thank you," Eddie says, then turns his attention to Buck. "Hear that? You're gonna get some ice. Sound good?"

Buck nods. When the nurse returns, she gives Eddie the okay to take the mask off, at least to spoon the ice chips into Buck's mouth. His heart breaks at the grooves it's left on Buck's pretty face, like he needed anything else to worry about.

Buck accepts the ice chips readily, and they don't seem to make him feel sick. The nurse leaves them to get the doctor, and while Eddie knows he should be calling Maddie, he can't bring himself to do it. He's waiting for Buck to kick him out, but Buck is clinging to his hand like his life depends on it.

"You're here?" he rasps.

"Yeah, cariño, I'm here."

Buck blinks softly. "Not leaving?"

"No, I'm not leaving," Eddie says, voice breaking. "Not unless you want me to."

"I don't," Buck says. "Don't leave."

A selfish part of Eddie is soothed by the request. "I won't. I'll stay right here until you tell me to go, okay? Does anything hurt?"

"No," Buck says fuzzily. "You're here?" His voice is still destroyed, and Eddie reaches for the cup, gives him some more ice chips. It's hard with Buck on his side, but Eddie is loathe to move him when Buck seems like he's comfortable where he is.

"I'm here. I won't go anywhere."

They're quiet for a moment. Buck stares at him, blue eyes blinking slowly, obviously fighting off the drugs still. He looks like he's struggling to stay awake, and still confused about Eddie's presence at his bedside.

"Why're you so surprised to see me, huh?" Eddie asks gently. "You were the one who rolled over and grabbed me two nights ago."

Buck blinks sleepily. He looks like he's fighting to stay awake. "Thought I was dreaming."

Well, fuck, if that isn't the most heartbreaking thing Eddie's ever heard. "Not dreaming, cariño," he murmurs. "I'm right here. Have been since you were brought in." He rubs his face. "Hey, you think you've had it rough? Bobby and Maddie and I have been keeping a vigil over you for days. It's Oscar-worthy material."

Buck blinks again. "Days?" he croaks.

"Yeah. Yeah, you've been under a while." Eddie tries to smile. "In and out, really. You scared us."

"But you're here?" Buck checks, again. He makes to move, winces, and stays where he is. He seems to want to get closer, and Eddie obliges, pulling the chair up right to the rail and putting it down so he can lean on the mattress.

"I'm here," he says quietly.

"We had a fight." God, Buck sounds so tired. "Did something happen? Did we make up?"

"How much do you remember?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Just the fight," Buck mumbles. "And... I think Chris came to the firehouse...?"

"Yeah. He did."

"Didn't put him up to that. I swear."

Eddie's throat closes up abruptly. He'd said he wasn't going to cry, but he might not have a choice. "I know you didn't, querido." Buck's eyes are closed, so Eddie has time to school his expression into something lighter than what it must be right now. It's unfair, to have this conversation when Buck's groggy and still fighting off the sedatives. "We can talk about this later if you want, when you're-"

"No, now," Buck says weakly, and pries his eyes open. "Didn't make up, but you're here?"

"I'm here," Eddie assures him again. He's had morphine before. It can really fuck with someone. He's not surprised Buck keeps checking he's actually there.

"Why?" Buck asks.

Eddie swallows. "I thought you were dead," he says, "and everything stopped making sense."

Buck's eyes open properly. He looks like he's finally managing to focus after days of drifting aimlessly in his drug-induced stupor. "You thought I was dead?"

Eddie doesn't know how much Buck remembers. If he remembers that Matt was involved. If Buck remembers Eddie carrying him up the slope to the ambulance, or the frantic trip to the hospital, or anything between going with Matt and waking up in hospital. And if he doesn't remember - Eddie's not going to pile it on him now, when he's drugged and broken and vulnerable.

So he says, simply, "You got pretty badly hurt."

"I remember that." Buck tries for a smile. "I was there."

Eddie's so startled he laughs, which turns into a sob, which turns into another. He covers his face with his free hand - this isn't supposed to be about him, damn it, but Buck seems miraculously okay and he's even tugging on the hand he's holding.

"C'mere, Eddie," he mumbles. "Wanna hug you."

He's not one to deny Buck anything anymore. He slides closer and feels Buck's arm wrap weakly over his shoulders. Buck smells like antiseptic and drugs and not even remotely like himself, but he's warm, and Eddie can feel how alive he is.

For a moment, they're quiet. Buck shifts on the bed, winces.

"I feel like I got hit by another truck." He meets Eddie's eyes when Eddie pulls away, gaze searching for clues as to why he's here. "And I don't really... how long have I been here? I don't remember anything."

"Yeah, doc said you'd lose some time," Eddie admits. "He was worried about brain injury too."

Buck moves his head at that. "What's there?" he asks, raising a hand. Eddie pushes it down, anxious for Buck to not accidentally tug out any of the wires feeding into his body.

"You have some staples," he says. "You might scar."

Buck shrugs. "What's one more?" He yawns, then coughs. Eddie gives him more ice chips, which are eagerly received, and Buck relaxes a little. He's losing the fight to stay awake, by the looks of things, but his eyes are still anxiously trained on Eddie.

"Not dreaming?" he asks again.

"You're not dreaming."

"Voicemail," Buck says. "Get my voicemail?"

"Your voicemail?" Eddie's a little confused. "I uh - I don't know, I'll have to check. What're you talking about, huh?"

Buck shrugs limply.

"Okay," Eddie says. "Well, I'm here, and I'm not gonna go anywhere. No need to keep your eyes peeled. Get some more rest, cariño."

Buck's eyes drift closed, and his grip on Eddie loosens. Eddie sighs, wipes his face, and leans his head on the mattress.

Buck's gonna be okay.

~*~

The next time Buck wakes up, Eddie and Maddie are both at his side.

He makes some kind of vague murmuring noise that Eddie refuses to categorise as cute, and his hand twitches in Maddie's. It's just about killing Eddie to not be holding his hand, but Maddie's his sister, and Eddie's still here.

"Evan?" Maddie asks, her voice choked. Eddie will never get used to hearing anyone refer to Buck by his birth name.

Buck's eyes blink open wearily, and he looks around. "Maddie?" he mumbles thickly.

"Oh, God." Maddie curls in close, pulling Buck's head into her chest and tucking him under her chin. "Evan, you scared me to death-"

"I'm sorry," Buck croaks, lifting one arm to hug her back. "I'm sorry I-"

"None of it was your fault, Evan, okay? Okay, baby brother?" Maddie kisses his forehead, leans away, and holds his face gently in her hands. "Are you listening?"

"I was supposed to protect you." Buck sounds thoroughly broken. "I can't do anything right, I-"

"Don't say that, sweetie. Don't." Maddie's stroking Buck's cheeks, by the looks of things. "This isn't on you, it's on him. He's the one who did this, not you."

"But I couldn't keep you safe. I tried, I-"

"I know, Ev, I know. Shhh."

For a long moment, everything is quiet, save the beeping of the machines and Buck's breathing. Maddie looks at Eddie over Buck's shoulder and smiles faintly.

"Eddie," Buck says, sounding a little unsure of himself. "He was here, right? I wasn't dreaming?"

"No, you weren't dreaming." Maddie meets Eddie's eyes, smiling. Eddie's rooted to the spot, a flicker of hope bursting to life in his chest when Buck asks about him. "He's right here. He's sitting behind you."

Buck rolls, lethargically, until he's on his back, his eyes drifting to Eddie's face. "I fell asleep on you," he mumbles. His eyes look red, and he's clearly exhausted, still, but he's fighting to stay awake. He's still clutching Maddie's hand. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Eddie shuffles his chair closer, so that Buck doesn't have to focus as much. "No harm done."

Buck nods. He looks beaten down, and Eddie flashes to the moment he said, "I can't do anything right" and he wants to address it - feels like Buck is talking about more than just Matt - but it's unfair to tackle now, with Buck this tired and drugged up.

Instead - and hoping he's making the right decision in shelving the conversation for later, when Buck's able to properly express how he feels - he offers Buck a warm smile, one that he hopes conveys how he feels even if his words can't.

"We're happy to have you back," he says instead, and it coaxes a wobbly smile to Buck's face. "You'll be better in no time."

~*~

He goes home, showers, sleeps, and talks to Chris about the possibility of going to see Buck. There's a long conversation to be had there - explaining, in what detail he can, that Buck's been hurt, without the how and the why. It's a balancing act with his kid and it always has been - telling him what he needs to know, sheltering him from what he doesn't, and constantly revising those decisions as Christopher gets older.

This, Christopher doesn't need to know. He doesn't need to know there are people like Matt in the world just yet. This, Eddie can protect him from for a little while longer.

Chris lights up at the idea of seeing Buck, even as Eddie explains that Buck looks a little different and that he's not likely to want to play as much. "I don't care," Chris says. "We'll make him better!"

"I bet you will," Eddie smiles, and he believes it.

Still, Buck's not really up to visitors just yet. He packs a bag - finds some of Buck's clothes in his own house, takes his laptop and the Spider-Man blanket that sits over the back of the couch on Chris's insistence. By the time he's back at the hospital, it's almost a full day later, one that he's been assured will be mostly Buck sleeping off the sedatives.

He heads down to Buck's room with fresh food from abuela, who insists the hospital food isn't good for a "growing boy" (Eddie did try to point out that Buck is already six foot two and nearly two hundred pounds and probably doesn't need to grow anymore; she wasn't having a bar of it) and the backpack of Buck's things.

"Knock knock," he says, rapping his knuckles on the door before easing it open.

Buck's sort of sitting up, and the oxygen mask is gone, replaced with oxygen tubes instead. He smiles when Eddie sticks his head in, albeit a little confusedly.

"Hi," Buck says.

He sounds more alert. That makes some sort of sense - the sedatives from surgery should be mostly out of his system now.

He holds up the tupperware container. "Abuela made tamales," he says. "I don't know if you can have them, but they're better than hospital food."

"Your abuela made me food?" Buck shuffles in an attempt to sit up a little more. "What's in the bag?"

"Some of your clothes," Eddie says, sitting down in the chair next to Buck's bed and putting the backpack down on the ground. "Chris insisted I bring you the Spider-Man blanket as well. A laptop. The TV in here sucks."

"Clothes?" Buck asks. Something's a little... off about how he's communicating, but Eddie can't quite put his finger on it. "Mine?"

"Yeah, you left them at my place. Figured you'd be sick of this," Eddie teases, plucking at the sleeve of the hospital gown Buck's wearing. "How come no one else is here?"

"Maddie was about an hour ago," Buck says, putting his head back down on the pillow. "The doctors keep getting angry at her for leaving her room. She's trying to convince them to release me to her, but they said they're not even releasing her to her. They took her off for some tests or something."

Sounds like Maddie, fighting tooth and nail to be beside her little brother even when she's recovering from surgery as well. "And... who brought that?" he asks slowly.

"That" is a roughly Eddie-sized teddy bear, which is sitting in and overflowing from the other chair in the room. It's got a giant blue bow around its neck.

"Oh. Hen and Chim." Buck smiles, and for the first time since Eddie arrived, it seems genuine. "They said they found me a Buck-sized toy to play with."

Eddie snorts. Buck smiles at him, almost shy. He's still pale, and the staples in his head stand out starkly, but he looks a lot better than he did the day before.

"Um," Buck says. "So... how come you came back?" He must see Eddie's expression, because he winces. "So soon I mean."

"What do you mean, so soon?" Eddie asks.

Buck shakes his head a little. His fingers are twisting into the blanket over him. "You were only here a few hours ago, right?" he asks. "Aren't you... tired, or...?"

"Buck, you've been sleeping off the sedative from surgery," Eddie explains gently. "I was here yesterday. I only left because they told me you'd be unconscious." He sits back, noticing that Buck looks more than a little confused. "What do you remember?"

"Not much," Buck admits. "You found me in the snow. I was in an ambulance. Then I woke up here... I don't remember much of that either."

Eddie was kind of hoping Buck's memory would come back a little, now that he's more alert, but obviously not. "Athena and I went looking for you," Eddie says. "You've been here a few days. In and out really."

Buck nods. He's chewing his lip nervously.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks slowly.

"Were you really in the ambulance, or did I imagine that?" Buck mumbles.

"I was there."

"But we had a fight, didn't we? The firehouse - Chris came to visit, and we had a fight, and then you... called me." Buck winces. "I was too scared to answer. We didn't make up before I ended up with Matt."

There's a long pause. Buck watches him, his eyes flickering over Eddie's body and face apprehensively. He's waiting for an answer of some kind, and Eddie's terrified to give it, but - well, he owes Buck this much, doesn't he?

"I was wrong to yell in the firehouse," he admits quietly. "I'm sorry for that, and for a lot of other things. I was really worried about you, so I forced Athena to take me when she went to look for you."

Buck leans back into his pillow, smiling. He looks genuinely pleased now and he hasn't since Eddie got here, body language all perked up like a dog at attention. "You forced _Athena Grant_ to take you somewhere?" he asks.

"Yeah, not my smartest idea..."

"Well," Buck mumbles, and he's blushing a little now. "I'm glad you did."

For a moment, they're quiet. Eddie licks his lips, then says, "Look, Buck, the fight... I'm sorry. I really am-"

"Can we not talk about that right now?" Buck asks, his eyes so wide and sincere that Eddie immediately drops the subject. "I just... I don't wanna have this conversation in a hospital bed. Can we do it later?"

"Sure," Eddie says softly.

Eddie's still trying to make sense of Buck's behaviour when Buck moves, sits up a little, and says, "So, what else is in the bag?" It looks like it saps most of his strength just to sit, so Eddie moves closer, puts it up on the bed, and begins pulling things out.

"Spider-Man blanket, most importantly," Eddie says, throwing it over Buck's legs. "Jigsaw puzzle, don't know how that ended up there. Laptop, like I said - the TV in here is terrible."

"Are there snacks?" Buck asks hopefully.

"You're hungry?" Eddie's never been happier to hear that someone's hungry before.

"A little. The food here is bad."

"Well, let's bust into the tamales, then. Abuela will kill me if we don't eat them."

"Better keep you safe from abuela, then," Buck says with a small smile, and makes grabby hands for the container. "Gimme."

"Yes, sir," Eddie says dryly.

~*~

Two days later, when Buck has gone through the worst of coming off the morphine and seems a little more like himself and positive about his recovery, Eddie packs Chris into the car to see him.

(They've more or less agreed to not talk about things while Buck is in hospital. Eddie's apologised and Buck seems to be slowly warming to him, albeit cautiously, and has said he'll be up to talking soon - just not now. Eddie can live with following his lead, even if there are half a million things he's dying to say.)

Chris visiting is a surprise, which is kind of a risk - hell, he might get there and find Buck in a terrible mood or in pain and not wanting a kid climbing all over him - but it's one he's calculated. He's fairly sure this will cheer Buck up beyond measure.

They enter the hospital - where Chris, ever the Prince Charming, promptly has the nurses giggling - and receive their visitor tags. Eddie sticks Chris's to the middle of his chest with a light smack, which makes Chris giggle.

They head up to the hallway outside Buck's room, with Chris looking around curiously. He's never really been afraid of much, even hospitals. He mostly just wants to know what everything is.

Outside Buck's room, Eddie kneels down on the ground. Christopher looks at him with such seriousness that his heart swells up inside his chest. He's got a great kid.

"Okay, mijo," he says. "I know you're really excited to see Buck. He's excited to see you too. But you remember when you had surgery, and you felt bad?"

Christopher nods.

"Well, Buck probably won't say anything, but he feels bad," Eddie says. "He needs us to take care of him. So we have to be really gentle. And he's been hurt, so..." Eddie searches for the words; he'd rehearsed this speech, but somehow it's all falling away from him with Chris's serious little face nodding along with his words. "So he's got some stuff stuck to him, and he looks a little different. But I don't want you to be scared. He's still Buck."

"Okay, Dad." Chris straightens up, looking like he's about to try and bear the weight of the world on his narrow shoulders. "I'll take care of Buck."

Eddie smiles, his eyes stinging. "Good man, Chris. Now let's surprise him, huh?"

When Eddie rounds the corner into Buck's room, he's greeted with the sight of Buck wearing a soft, worn white t-shirt and a pair of sweats. The blankets are rumpled - Buck's kicked them off, and his feet are bare. It's warm in the hospital room, warm enough that they can all probably ditch their coats.

Buck smiles tiredly when Eddie enters. He looks pale.

"You're dressed," Eddie says, surprised.

"I had to use my puppy eyes on the nurses," Buck says. "Worth it."

"You feeling better?" Eddie sits. "Because if you are, I brought you a surprise."

"A surprise?" Buck asks. "Yeah, I feel okay, I-"

"Bucky!" Christopher yells from the doorway, apparently unable to contain his excitement anymore. He's hurrying on his crutches, and Eddie reaches out to grab him, throat a little tight when he sees the expression of pure joy on Buck's face.

"Christopher!" he says.

"Do you want him-" But Buck is already reaching out with his good arm, the one not attached to the IV, and doesn't even have eyes for Eddie anymore. Eddie blinks, eyes a little hot, as he bends down to pick Christopher up.

"Be careful with him, mijo," Eddie says, gently but firmly, and deposits Chris carefully on the bed. Even with Buck still attached to an IV and recovering from surgery, he has no doubt that the guy won't let his kid fall.

"Hey, Chris," Buck whispers, smiling, and Chris throws both clumsy arms around Buck's neck, squeezing him. "God, I missed you, kiddo."

"I missed you too Bucky." Chris pulls away, but only for long enough to plant a sticky kiss on Buck's cheek. "Daddy said you feel bad."

"Well I don't anymore."

There's silence for a moment, with Chris content to lean on Buck's broad chest and cuddle into him, and Buck carding one hand through his curls. He looks up, meets Eddie's eyes, and smiles tremulously.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Eddie tries to smile back, but he's feeling a little overwhelmed by the sight of them together. He can see how grateful Buck is, just in his eyes and how they're lit up and warm as they settle on him, and still feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Chris pulls away after a moment, one hand still on Buck's shoulder. His eyes travel Buck's body, taking in the IV still in his left arm and the wires snaking into the collar of his t-shirt, finally resting on the weal of black staples in Buck's head.

Eddie steels himself, because this is a lot and Chris is sensitive and he did his best to explain, but explaining and seeing are two different things. For a moment, Chris's lower lip wobbles, and Eddie's about to intervene when Buck says,

"Hey, Chris? Can you do me a giant favour?"

"Yeah." His voice wobbles a little.

"Can you kiss it better?" Buck asks seriously. "I'd ask your dad, but he's gross."

Chris giggles, planting another kiss on Buck's cheek. If Buck minds that Chris somehow still has chocolate on his face from earlier, he doesn't say so, even if he does wrinkle his nose up a little.

"Did that help?" Chris asks.

"Sure did," Buck says cheerfully. "I feel good as new."

He does actually look better, which warms Eddie right through. He's flushed again - more from happiness than from health, but hey, Eddie will take what he can get - and his smile has reached his eyes. It even stays that way when he looks at Eddie.

"You're ready to be a doctor," Eddie says, and Chris finally giggles, no longer seeming put off by the staples. If anything, he shuffles closer, raises a hand to them.

"Gentle, Chris," Eddie warns, standing up on impulse. He knows Chris has clean hands, because he forced him to use the antiseptic spray in the hallway, but he's still wary of hospital-borne infections and that Buck's pain, while managed, has been a bit of an issue since the morphine wore off. "That might hurt him."

Mercifully, Chris doesn't touch, just leans to peer at them more closely. If anything, he seems curious, now. "What happened to your head, Bucky?"

"I hit it really hard," Buck replies regretfully.

"That was dumb."

Buck laughs, even while Eddie sort of wants to scold Chris for it. "Yeah, I guess it was. How's it look, Dr. Diaz?"

"It looks kinda cool." Chris is leaning almost his full weight on Buck's right side trustingly, and while that's - amazing, that he does trust Buck the way he trusts Eddie, Eddie's wary of Buck's surgery site; he watches Buck's face obsessively, looking for the brief tightening around his mouth and eyes that suggests he's in pain, but he can't find anything.

Buck adjusts so that Chris can better lean against his side and puts an arm around him. The other has the IV still firmly in place - Buck's been eating and drinking, but Eddie suspects the nurses aren't quite happy with his intake just yet.

Chris falls asleep there, head pillowed on Buck's chest. Buck smiles tiredly at Eddie - now that Chris it out, Buck's done with pretences, and he's clearly exhausted and not feeling great, if the paleness of his skin is anything to go by.

"Thanks for bringing him, Eddie," Buck says. "It means a lot. Made my day."

"The last time you saw him was at the firehouse," Eddie says uncomfortably. "I know you guys missed each other."

Buck nods. His eyes are a little foggy.

"You doing okay?" Eddie checks carefully.

"They lowered my pain meds. I didn't sleep that well." Buck leans his head back, almost unwillingly. "I'm just really sick of being here."

"We can go, if you're tired-"

"No," Buck says quickly, his head jerking back up. He almost clutches Christopher closer, then looks ashamed of himself and breaks Eddie's gaze, lowering his head, exposing the back of his neck.

He only ever does it when he thinks Eddie's going to be angry. Eddie hasn't learned quite why he does it yet, but he does know he hates seeing it. Buck, who's bright and bubbly and painfully, beautifully vulnerable, shouldn't have to look like this.

He reaches out and strokes the back of Buck's neck gently. "Easy, cariño," he murmurs. "We won't go anywhere, okay? Why don't you try to sleep?"

Buck lets out a wobbly sigh and relaxes. A slight shiver passes over him, and Eddie turns, smiling when he sees the Spider-Man blanket tucked into Buck's side.

"Here." He tosses it over them both. "Sleep, Buck. We won't go anywhere."


	13. Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE GUYS <3 and also send love to that one anon who is very good at spurring me to update sooner than planned haha. this is the beginning of the kiss and make up, though i want it to expand into chapter 14!
> 
> i've got some ungodly levels of fluff planned for chapter 15 so brace yourselves!

Two days later, Eddie rounds the corner to Buck's hospital room again, enters, and finds it empty.

It's hard to described what happens to him in that moment. The ground drops away, and he feels his breathing quicken. The entire room is empty, bed made up, no sign that Buck was ever even here. He checks the door number, wonders briefly if he's going insane.

But Buck isn't here. He was and now he's not.

He calls Buck on his way out of the hospital, but it rings out and goes to voicemail, and he panics. He's leaning against his car and trying to breathe and keep calm when he dials Maddie, who, mercifully, picks up.

"Eddie?"

"Where's Buck?" he asks, frantic, as he gets into his car.

"Buck? Why-"

"I just came to the hospital and he's not here, Maddie, he's gone, he-"

"Eddie, he got released." Maddie sounds confused. "He's at home."

Buck got released? Buck got released and didn't tell him?

There's a pause on the other end of the line. Then Maddie says, "I... think you guys should talk."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Eddie says faintly. With that, he says goodbye, piles into his truck, and makes the drive over to Buck's apartment.

~*~

He sort of didn't think about what he'd do once he actually got to Buck's apartment complex.

He stands outside the front door, but he doesn't knock. He can hear the TV inside, which means Buck is home and probably fine. He drove over here so impulsively he didn't even think about what he'd do when he got here.

That's the problem. He doesn't think. Just acts.

He turns to leave, resolving that if Buck wants to talk to him, he'll call or something. He's not going to knock the door down just because Buck got discharged and left, which is a completely reasonable thing to do, and what was Eddie going to do about it anyway?

He's at the elevator when a door opens, and a voice calls, "Eddie?" down the hallway.

He turns around. Buck is leaning out his front door, watching him with an expression Eddie can't quite place. "What are you doing?" he asks, sounding bemused.

"I have no idea, honestly," Eddie replies.

While Buck doesn't look impressed by that, he sighs. "Come in," he says. "We aren't doing this in the hallway."

Eddie hesitates, but Buck doesn't move, so he heads back towards the apartment. "Are you sure?" he asks. "I can go-"

"I'm sure."

Eddie enters the apartment, trying not to pay overt attention to Buck's slow movements or his downcast eyes. He's still wearing the clothes he was in at the hospital, which means he probably hasn't showered yet and explains the smell of antiseptic on him.

"How'd you know I was there?" Eddie asks.

Buck gestures to his counter. On it, his laptop is open, with a camera view of the hallway. "Security system," he says.

"Look, I'm sorry. It wasn't right of me to come around and-"

"I knew it was you," Buck interrupts. "I could've let you walk away."

He looks at Eddie, and Eddie looks back at him. The staples in his head are gleaming in the weak winter sunlight piercing through the industrial-sized windows, and he's got little pressure bandages wherever he had an IV.

Eddie takes in the periphery of the apartment. There are grocery bags on the counter, a paper bag with a few orange bottles inside next to it - medication, Eddie's guessing. The couch covered with a single pillow and a rumpled blanket. At the stairs, the giant teddy bear Hen and Chim gifted to Buck is slumped sadly.

He hasn't even unpacked. A duffel is next to the front door, spilling things everywhere.

"Been back long?"

Buck shakes his head, sinking into one of the bar stools. "Hen brought me food," he explains. "I uh... getting discharged was kind of a sudden thing. I told Maddie and she got Chim to help me pack, he brought me back here."

Of course, this is Buck, who has oversharing encoded into his DNA, right alongside the golden retriever genes and his relentless need to let people know how much he loves them.

"Buck, you really don't need-"

"I just uh, I just figured you spent so much time at the hospital and I didn't want you to worry-"

"Buck, you don't owe me an explanation," Eddie says quickly, and Buck blinks. "I really - I just panicked when I went to visit and you weren't there. I came here before I even thought about it. It was the last thing I should've done-"

"It's not, actually," Buck says, and Eddie feels hopeful for a split second until he sees the set of Buck's jaw. "You probably should've come here to apologise any time over the last couple of weeks, but you didn't."

Yeah. He deserved that. He deserved it and he had a whole apology speech planned out, but now, he feels paralysed. He doesn't know what to say, or even if he should say anything.

"Don't get me wrong, man," Buck says, his voice shaking just a little, in a way that Eddie knows means he feels emotional. "I was - I was in the snow for fucking ages and I was so happy to see you I could've died from it. And I remember you were there in the ambulance, trying to keep me awake, and that you were next to me when I woke up in hospital, even though I don't really know what happened after that. But - fuck, Eddie, what the hell am I supposed to make of it?"

"I went looking for you," Eddie blurts, because it's the first thing that comes to mind. "We thought it was Doug because Maddie got hurt. So I - I went looking. Why do you think I-"

"I don't know!" Buck snaps. Eddie's never known him to sound like that before, except for maybe that one time with Shannon, and it throws him for a loop. "Jesus, Eds, I don't know why you did any of it! Look, I'll own up to my part - I should've realised it wasn't real for you way before you fucking said it, because that was how the whole thing started. But when I did tell you-"

God, Eddie remembers, he remembers and doesn't want to but knows that's the bare minimum of what he has to do to at least try and apologise.

"When I did tell you," Buck says, his voice a little quieter, "I wasn't - I wasn't expecting that. And then you thought I put Chris up to the firehouse? Next thing I know I'm half-dead in the snow with my ex boyfriend trying to kill me and you were there when I hadn't seen you in two weeks."

He's breathing heavily, but he's not done, not by a long shot. He looks angry, now, like he'd be getting to his feet if he wasn't drugged to the eyeballs and still sore from surgery.

"So no, Eddie. I don't get why you did that. I don't understand why you were at the hospital, I don't understand why Maddie keeps asking when I'm going to call you and let you know I've been released, and I definitely don't understand why you're here! How could I? You never tell me anything! You - you hint at stuff, you walk around it in circles, but you don't tell me!" Buck swallows, looking down. "I'm not a mind-reader, man," he says weakly.

Eddie wants to say he never asked. But his heart is in his throat and he's realised suddenly that he might have permanently screwed it up - there might not be any coming back from this, no way to forgiveness or healing, no path he can take that will make Buck any less confused or hurt.

Buck looks away, angry, jaw ticking, wiping at the frustrated tears that have gathered in his eyes. And Eddie doesn't know what to say, or how to fix it. He's frozen, and the longer he's frozen the more he feels his chance to make things right is escaping him.

"Matt left," Buck says, suddenly, and his voice is quiet and defeated. "It changed my whole world even though he wasn't good for me. Then I met Abby, and she was... she was _really_ good to me. And I think I loved her. Then she left as well, except she said she'd come back and she just... never did. You said you wouldn't get tired of me-"

"And I left," Eddie finishes hollowly.

"And you were gonna leave again," Buck says, gesturing to the front door. "You were seriously gonna run away from me _again_ , Eddie."

"I didn't want to force you into talking to me," Eddie says softly.

Buck blinks. "I thought you were still angry at me but you showed up, then I thought maybe you felt guilty when I woke up in the hospital and you were there - but then you kept coming back. You brought abuela's tamales and Christopher and stayed, and I really wanted-"

He cuts himself off, going silent. He doesn't look like he knows what to do with his hands, although one of them has drifted to his hip and started probing there. He shouldn't even be in pain with the post-surgery medication, and the movement worries Eddie beyond belief.

"What... did you want?" Eddie asks, softly. He's walking on very thin ice here, and he can almost feel it splintering underfoot. If he pushes too hard or not enough, Buck will shut down.

"I wanted so badly to believe that you were there because you weren't angry anymore, and that you wanted to be," Buck admits, and his voice sounds a little breathless and choked like he's trying not to cry. "I just didn't want to think it was because you felt guilty. I know that isn't it, man, but I wanted to believe it so bad I-"

His voice cracks, and he wipes his eyes again, but he's not angry now. The fight's gone out of him, and he just looks tired and sick and like he needs, more than anything, to rest.

"I wanted it to be real," Buck chokes out. "I wanted so bad for you to be there because you wanted to be. I wanted you to take me home."

Eddie feels like the air has been punched from his lungs. Buck wanted to go home with him? This whole time Eddie thought Buck wanted nothing to do with him and Buck thought the same about him, and - Buck wanted Eddie to bring him home. Eddie came here today to try and do the right thing - but he isn't even sure what that is anymore.

"I miss you," Buck whispers, when Eddie still hasn't said anything. "God, Eds, I miss you so fucking much. I probably shouldn't, but I do."

He doesn't know what to say, but he does know to finally give into the urge to pull Buck in close and hold him, and Buck lets him the way Eddie knew he would, makes himself small enough to gather and tucks his head under Eddie's chin. Eddie reaches out, slowly, to catch Buck's hand where it's still restlessly massaging his injured hip, and Buck's fingers twitch under his touch.

"Easy, Buck," he whispers. "Easy." He edges Buck's hand out of the way and replaces it, slipping his fingers into the waistband of Buck's sweats and massaging the spot he knows bothers Buck the most. It's frighteningly intimate after the last few weeks of not touching and not talking and not being, and it's even scarier how Buck just lets him and doesn't protest. Once again, Eddie's touching him where he's hurt, and Buck is letting him.

He can't leave anything unspoken. He's terrified of something he doesn't even recognise but he knows he needs to do this - that terror is the signal to take the leap. It always has been. Buck's been there this whole time, and now it's time for Eddie to join him.

He leans back, heart aching when Buck makes a low keening noise that comes from somewhere deep in his chest.

"It's real," Eddie says, and Buck looks up at him, blinking. There are tear tracks on his cheeks. "It is real, Buck. That's why I ran. Because it was real and it felt too good to be true and I got scared." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he whispers, which is maybe what he should have lead with. "I'm so sorry for everything."

It's not Buck's sweeping declaration of how he feels. It's not even close. It feels horribly inadequate after Buck's stripped himself bare and given Eddie a knife to stab him with, but it's all he's got. From the moment Buck left his house that night Eddie's regretted everything. He's been too much of a coward to say it.

"It was real?" Buck asks, voice broken.

"It is real," Eddie says, emphasising the present-tense. "Buck, I thought you were going to die and my world blurred."

Buck stares at him, wipes his eyes, and sits a little straighter. "So... you're here because... you want to be?" His eyes search Eddie's face hopefully, and he must find what he's looking for there, because he stops looking devastated and starts looking - well, not happy, but...

"You want to be here?" Buck reaffirms.

"Yes." Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "And for what it's worth... I wanted to take you home too."

Buck's mouth opens and closes a few times. He looks overwhelmed, and Eddie thinks it probably isn't fair that he's essentially ambushed the guy on his first day out of the hospital and forced a wrought emotional confession from him while he's on painkillers and antibiotics and generally feeling like shit.

"I - I want to do the right thing by you," Eddie admits. "I really want to do the right thing by you, but I don't even know what that is anymore. I'm getting therapy - that feels right. And I'm here to apologise, that feels right. I just - we can't take it further like this, Buck."

Buck licks his lips, nods tiredly. "I know," he says. "But I'm really glad you're here."

"I don't see why," Eddie admits. "I'm worse than-"

"Matt just tried to kill me," Buck says sharply. "You aren't. You... look, I'm not gonna pretend I feel all fuzzy about things, but Eddie? You're not Matt. We've still got shit to talk about, but you'll never be Matt."

Eddie nods. They sit in silence for a while, carefully not touching after their hug, not really looking at each other. Buck's apartment is cold.

"Are you alone in here?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Yeah." Buck shrugs, picking at a thread on his sweats. "People can't just put their lives on hold for me."

Eddie swallows. Buck's pale, with bags under his eyes, and not moving all that great. Eddie decides to take a chance, then - maybe it'll backfire or maybe Buck will say no, but something inside him says it's the right thing to do, to at least try. To not leave Buck out on his own anymore.

"Hey, Buck?" he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"You said before... that you wanted me to take you home." Eddie pauses, here, takes the time to read Buck's body language, to try and gauge how this is going over. Buck's body is angled towards him, though, alert, and his eyes are trained on Eddie almost hopefully.

"Is it, um..." He swallows. "Is it too late for me to do that?" He feels emboldened by how much attention Buck is giving him right now, by the fact that Buck seems glad he's here, that he's at least apologised and that's a start. "Is it too late for me to - to take you home?"

"No," Buck says, his voice wobbling. "I really don't want to be alone in here. But Eddie, this doesn't - it doesn't make it go away or fix it, it's not-"

"I know," Eddie says quickly. "No, I know it doesn't fix it and I know we're probably never going to be back to what we were before, and I'm happy to - to keep talking, once you feel up to it. I just - it scares me, you alone in here. So if you want - and only if you want - you can come stay with me and Chris. I won't be mad if you don't want to."

"I want to," Buck says, voice small. "I really missed the little guy."

"He missed you too." Eddie takes a deep breath; this whole thing is a clusterfuck but the ice is beginning to feel more like a very fragile foundation, and he can deal with that. "Okay, uh - let's get you packed."

"I can't get upstairs," Buck says, and though he sounds a little less overwhelmed, he still sounds croaky and a little sick.

"I'll pack you some things," Eddie murmurs, and after a moment - when he stands and Buck looks up at him wearily, as if the only thing he has energy to do is gaze at Eddie - he leans down and presses a kiss to Buck's forehead.

Buck sighs in a way that sounds almost like a whimper.

"Shh, querido," Eddie whispers. "I'll take you home. I promise."

~*~

He finds a zip-up hoodie to bundle Buck into - it's cold outside, with winter well and truly settling over them. Eddie realises that they're only a month from Christmas. He hasn't even started shopping for presents yet.

Buck's capable of walking on his own, and he does, looking around and beginning to gather things up - wallet, keys, phone, charger. Laptop. Three pill bottles. The sight of them makes Eddie's throat feel tight and his eyes hot - Buck's twenty six and shouldn't be on three different kinds of medication. It's not permanent, but right now it doesn't make a difference.

Eddie doesn't ask what clothes Buck wants, and instead packs enough to last him for a week, just to negate the awkward conversation that he knows will ensue over Buck overstaying his welcome or whatever. It's easier this way.

When he returns to the living area, Buck seems ready to go. He's still in the t-shirt and hoodie, but he's managed to drag on a pair of jeans and shoes.

"You didn't have to put jeans on," Eddie says softly.

"It's kinda nice to wear normal clothes again," Buck admits, and yeah, Eddie can understand that. "I'm uh, I'm ready."

The drive home is quiet.

Buck is staring out the window, eyelashes fluttering in a way that tells Eddie he's exhausted and trying to stay awake. He's seen it before, after long shifts at the firehouse or just long days in general, and he'd know it anywhere.

He reaches over, hesitantly, and puts his hand on Buck's shoulder gently. Buck startles and looks at him.

"If you're tired, you should rest," Eddie says softly. "I'll wake you up when we get there."

"I figured you'd just carry me inside like you do Chris." It's a weak attempt at returning to their old banter, but one Eddie can appreciate, especially with Buck this under the weather. It's like a salve to the still-smarting wounds he's carrying around.

"You might be a bit heavy for that."

Buck smiles sleepily, his head tilted towards Eddie, and closes his eyes. He's asleep soon after, and Eddie spends the drive in silence, mentally checking off the things he's packed for Buck and hoping he hasn't forgotten anything.

When they get back, he manages to rouse Buck for long enough to get him inside and situated on the couch. Chris is at school, and Eddie hopes that Buck gets enough sleep to look a little less horrific before he comes home.

He doesn't know how to explain this to Christopher. He can't afford another fuck up with Buck or with Shannon. Chris has already been through enough.

He wakes Buck at midday and force-feeds him painkillers, antibiotics, and blood thinner tablets. Buck downs them all with minimal amounts of water, shifting around uncomfortably and looking far too pale for Eddie's liking. The first day out of hospital is always the worst, he knows that from experience - but it's different seeing it on someone he loves.

He doesn't ruminate over the love word. He moves on, doesn't panic. Panic is the last thing Buck needs from him when they're building a tentative new foundation. A new - something. Eddie's not sure, exactly, what it is, but it feels fragile.

"You feeling alright?" Eddie asks.

Buck shrugs, a limp, lifeless movement. "I feel gross," he says finally.

"Gross, like...?"

"Not clean. I smell like the hospital."

He's right, not that Eddie really wants to tell him that. Instead, he says, "I'll rustle you up some clean clothes if you want to try and have a shower."

Buck nods tiredly. Eddie finds him some clothes, then helps Buck off the couch and into the bathroom. It's become fairly clear to him, already, that Buck won't be able to shower on his own. He's going to need help.

Eddie turns the water on and then pivots to Buck, who's sitting on the toilet seat and looking like it's beyond his capacity to do much else. Eddie smiles softly.

"Shirt off."

Buck begins to tug it off, groaning with the pain it causes, and Eddie helps. As he does, and the shirt is fluttering to the ground, he sees the surgical scar from Buck's splenectomy and swallows, almost convulsively - there's staples right through the middle of his stomach, big and black and surrounded with inflamed looking edges. Although the surgery was laparoscopic by the looks of it, it's confronting to see a wound like that on someone he cares about.

Buck sees him staring and moves his arm to cover the mark, hunching. "Good thing you already know I'm pretty," he says weakly.

"Sorry, I shouldn't stare," Eddie says softly. "You ready to ditch the pants?"

"Always," Buck says, and a hint of his sly, lip-biting grin flickers over his face. This is - just off normal, Eddie thinks, with the rest of the conversation they need to have looming over them. Still, it's a relief to see a flash of the old Buck, even as Eddie has to help him out of his pants. He hesitates at Buck's underwear.

He doesn't know what they are. They fought, and Eddie told Buck it was real, and now they're here, and Eddie has seen Buck come and beg and been the cause of both of those things, knows how his leg hurts when it's cold or he has to walk a lot in a day. But for all the times they've had sex and kissed, this is different.

Buck is relying on him. Really relying on him, physically, to help him undress and shower and to not hurt him in the process.

"Can I take these off, or do you want them on?" Eddie asks quietly.

Buck's silence stretches for a while. "Um," he says. "Off?"

"Okay. Lift your hips up for me?"

Buck does, and Eddie slides his underwear off, fully aware that Buck is shivering and vulnerable in front of him. With the water warm enough, Eddie helps him step under the spray. When it becomes apparent that Buck's strength is fading, Eddie lowers him to the floor of the tub.

"Easy," he murmurs. "You want me to wash your hair?"

Buck nods, and Eddie reaches for the shampoo, washing Buck's hair and rinsing it before getting soap all over his body. It sluices off in the warmth of the shower, and despite his discomfort, Buck is beginning to look a little more relaxed.

"Better?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah. Thanks, Eddie."

"Don't mention it." He switches the water off, then grabs a towel. "Can you stand?"

Buck does, wobbling a little, and Eddie wraps one towel around his waist before drying him off with the other. He's terrified of having to pat the staples in Buck's stomach dry, but Buck lets him, and he doesn't make a single noise of complaint. This, at least, Eddie can get right.

He helps Buck dress, and by the time they're done, a healthy pink flush has returned to Buck's cheeks. He smiles, a little wanly, at Eddie.

"Thank you."

It's heartfelt, which is maybe what throws Eddie off so much. Buck's a heartfelt type of person in general, but this - after everything Eddie's said, and after everything that's happened between them - this feels genuine. Real.

He wants so badly to close the gap and give Buck a quick, no-reasons kiss, one that won't get posted to Facebook or Instagram or be witnessed by any of their friends and family, but it doesn't feel right, in the moment, with Buck relying on him like this.

"I think you need a real bed now," Eddie says.

"No," Buck says quickly. "The couch is fine. I - I don't feel like being on my own."

Eddie can understand that. "Okay," he says. "Back to the couch it is."

It's a slow shuffle to get there, and Buck's mouth is pursed when he eventually settles. Eddie potters for five minutes, before realising that he doesn't actually have anything to do, what with abuela and Pepa having cleaned the house to almost psychotic levels in his absence.

He returns to the living room. Buck is settled, a blanket tugged over him, eyes closed. Eddie admires him for a moment, then steps forward.

Buck blinks his eyes open tiredly.

"Go back to sleep," Eddie whispers. "Do you care if I watch TV?"

Buck shakes his head, making to move so Eddie can sit down. Eddie sees him wince, hears him suck in a breath, and says, "Hang on, hermoso, don't stress."

He lifts Buck's legs, gently, and settles in with the remote. With him there, on the couch, Buck rolls slowly onto his back, then gingerly onto his other side, so that he's facing away from the TV. His eyes close again.

Eddie sighs, rubbing one of Buck's socked feet gently. It's going to be a long week.

~*~

Buck wakes sometime later, seeming a little more well-rested and in better spirits than he was.

He has some crackers, and when he deals with those well enough, Eddie makes him some toast. Buck mumbles something about not being invalid and being able to do it himself, blushing, but one look from Eddie sends him right back to the couch.

When Chris gets home from school, he's delighted to see Buck on the couch. Eddie is momentarily worried that Chris will attempt to get up there and knock Buck in the stomach or head or - well, his anything - but intuitively, Chris takes in the scene and approaches at a somewhat normal speed.

"Hi, Bucky," he grins, keeping his voice down.

"Hey, buddy!" Buck hugs Chris when he gets there, beaming into his shoulder. "How was school?"

"Great! I have a new science project to do!" He takes Buck in. "Are you having a sleepover?"

"He sure is," Eddie says, before Buck can begin to stammer about it. Buck smiles gratefully at him.

Chris pats Buck's face, so gently Eddie almost feels choked up about it. Chris knows Buck isn't feeling well, clearly, and is trying to make him feel better. He only ever pats Eddie's face like that when one of them is sad or sick.

"Hey Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Daddy said you got hurt. Is that why you're on the couch?"

Buck smiles tiredly. "Yeah. You just get it, huh?"

Chris giggles, a muted noise. He's still patting Buck's face, and he leans over to kiss his cheek and says, "Did that make it better?"

"Lots better," Buck says. "You know what would probably even fix it?"

"What?"

"A cuddle."

"I'll get Dragon and Chompy!" Chris says excitedly, and hurries off to his room to grab the stuffed animals. Eddie sits down near Buck's hip carefully.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"He won't hurt me," Buck says sleepily.

"Okay. But if you need anything, or you need him to get off you-"

"I'll let you know, Eds." Buck looks up and smiles at him. "It's so good to be here. I missed you guys a lot."

Once again, Eddie doesn't know what to do with Buck's heartfelt confession. Thankfully, he doesn't have to, because Chris returns at that moment, holding a book, a blanket, Chompy and Dragon, and pats Eddie's knee impatiently until he's up on the couch with Buck.

Buck tucks an arm under Christopher's head. "What are we reading?" he asks.

Eddie misses the reply. His phone is ringing, and his heart drops when he sees it's Shannon. He swipes to answer and leaves the room.

"Hello?" he asks tiredly.

"Hi, Eddie." She sounds... normal, really. "I was just wondering if I could organise to see Chris sometime soon? I mean, I have some time free tonight."

"Tonight's not good," Eddie says. God, he's dog-tired and desperately in need of a break, but between Buck healing from surgery and Chris, and now Shannon wanting to see Chris, he can tell he's not going to get one. "Buck just got out of hospital."

"Oh. How's he doing?"

He's surprised she asked. "He's tired. Sore. Think he'll be laid up for a while, but he should make a full recovery. First day out of the hospital, so..."

"Yeah, that's hard," she agrees sympathetically. "I remember when you came out of the hospital after your appendix surgery. You were miserable."

Eddie remembers that too. Abuela had made them food, only he couldn't eat any of it on the post-surgery diet. Shannon had managed to make him chicken soup, which he could eat. Chris was only little at the time, not even two. It's one of the last good memories he has of them all together.

"Yeah," Eddie replies quietly, rubbing his face. "He's not saying anything, but..."

"Well, you didn't either." He hears her rustling around. "I don't want to make things harder," she says finally, awkwardly. "So... will you let me know? About Christopher?"

"Yeah," he says, surprised. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

~*~

There's a lot of work to be done between a kid who has cerebral palsy and a bigger-than-full-sized adult who's finding it hard to move and needs post-operative care.

Eddie does the laundry, helps Christopher with homework, feeds Buck his drugs - Buck almost refuses to take the painkillers, although does so reluctantly when Chris tells him, smartly, that Eddie knows best - and then has to figure out what the hell to do with dinner.

Buck can't eat a lot of green things on blood thinners, and Chris is currently on a chicken nugget spree. Between that, he hasn't actually been grocery shopping since - well, since before Buck was kidnapped.

God. His ex fake boyfriend turned real boyfriend was kidnapped at knifepoint by his abusive ex boyfriend. What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

He's grabbing his keys to head to the store - with strict instructions for Chris to not push Buck too hard, and for Buck to not let him - when he runs smack into Shannon on the way out.

He feels momentarily angry, stymied, tricked - until he notices that she's carrying a pot, and holds it up to him.

"I brought soup," she says, smiling a little timidly.

"Soup?" Eddie asks.

"I figured you'd have your hands full, and that he won't be able to eat much." She can't bring herself to say Buck's name, but that's fine. "It's not a ploy or anything. Just soup. I just wanted to drop it off and go."

Eddie takes it, bemused, and looks at her. She looks down guiltily.

"I made things really hard for you, Eddie. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he says, unsure if he's thanking her for the soup or the apology. "I'll um - I'll let you know about Chris?"

She smiles again, nods, and turns to leave. Eddie takes the soup back inside, finds that Buck is finally walking around and is currently at the kitchen counter, sipping gingerly on a glass of water.

"Hey." Eddie smiles, genuinely relieved - Buck's been on the couch all day. He sets the pot down. "Look who's up and moving."

Buck smiles back, but it's tired and a little pinched. "Sort of. What's that?"

"Shannon brought soup," Eddie says bemusedly.

"Shannon did?" Buck sniffs the air. "It actually smells good."

"You want to try eating some?" Eddie asks carefully. The first thing to go when Buck is sick or in pain or stressed is his appetite, and he's hardly eaten all day.

"Yeah," Buck says, surprising him. "I'll try."

~*~

Dinner, for Buck, is soup and a little bit of bread. Eddie and Christopher end up with an odd mix of steamed vegetables, chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs, soup, and some bread.

Buck finishes his soup, but he declines more. Eddie doesn't push him - instead, he gets everyone set up on the couch again, with Chris doing homework and Buck dozing.

When it's bedtime, Chris gives Buck a sweet kiss and clacks off to brush his teeth. Eddie watches Buck rest for a moment - making sure he's asleep, and not just pretending - before following Christopher.

"Daddy," Chris says, through a mouthful of toothpaste and foam.

"Yeah?"

"When will Buck be better?"

"Soon, hopefully."

Chris nods thoughtfully. "He got hurt lots, right?"

For a moment, Eddie's back in the stained-red snow with Buck's shaking body leaning on him, calling for help. He swallows.

"Yeah, he did."

"But he'll be okay?"

"He's gonna be okay."

"We can make him better by kissing him lots," Chris says, reaching up so that Eddie can carry him to his bedroom. "I kissed it better before and - he said I fixed it."

"Your kisses are more special than mine," Eddie says seriously, just to watch Chris's face light up in a smile and a quiet laugh. "But yeah, we'll kiss him lots and make him better."

He tucks Chris in, reads him a bedtime story, and checks in on Buck in the living room. Buck is still asleep, so he goes to the kitchen, does the dishes, and gets Christopher's school lunch ready for the next day.

It's not especially late when he's done but he finds himself rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. It's been a long, emotional day, even without much physical movement, for everyone. And, much as he hates that, it's not over - Buck has one more dose of meds to take today, the painkillers and the antibiotics, neither of which can be had on an empty stomach.

Eddie finds some crackers somewhere in his cabinet, bites into one to make sure they're not stale, and brings them back to the couch with water and Buck's tablets. He sits on the coffee table, leaning over to shake Buck's shoulder.

Buck opens his eyes blearily. "Hmm?"

"Hey." Eddie feels so guilty for waking him, especially when Buck was sleeping so well. The painkillers he might be okay with Buck missing, but the antibiotics are important. "Sorry I woke you up. Pill time."

Buck takes the offered crackers without complaint and chews on one slowly, looking very much like he'd love to go back to sleep. He looks up at Eddie curiously.

"Why are you doing all this?"

The question immediately makes him feel uneasy. He'd told Buck it was all real, right? Buck heard that?

"Because I care about you," he says, then blurts out, "I told you it was real."

Buck smiles, almost unhappily. "Was." He eats another cracker in one bite, then reaches for his tablets.

"No," Eddie says, all frazzled now. "It is real. I do have feelings for you. I'm just - I'm trying to do the right thing, but if this isn't what you want-"

"It is," Buck says quickly. "I was just scared you didn't mean it." Buck scrubs a hand over his eyes. "Sorry, Eds. I don't mean to be a dick."

"Buck... you're not being a dick." Eddie watches as Buck nibbles disinterestedly on a cracker. "You're allowed to be pissed at me. I'm definitely not going to hold it against you, okay?" He watches as Buck blinks, then settles; those, apparently, were the right words. "Done?"

Buck nods.

"Time for bed, I think," Eddie says, standing.

Buck blinks. "Okay," he says. "Goodnight."

Eddie stands there, shell-shocked, as Buck tugs his blanket closer and rolls to the back of the couch. "What are you doing?" he asks, feeling suddenly filled with dread.

"Going to sleep? You said bed time."

"I - you just got out of hospital, Buck, you aren't sleeping on the couch." Something is amiss here, only Eddie is too dog tired to figure out what it is. "What are you doing?"

Buck blinks owlishly. "I... I didn't think you'd want...?"

Eddie rubs his face. There's still so much to be said, even after their chat at Buck's place - and while they're both happy to leave the rest until they've slept and rested, Eddie feels like every second conversation is turning into a misunderstanding on his part.

He can't have Buck thinking that Eddie's only done this because he feels guilty. He can't. Because that's - well, that's not it. He does feel guilty, but that's not why he's doing any of this.

"I want you to sleep in the bed," he says, softly. "I can sleep out here. But you're just out of hospital and you need to be able to stretch out comfortably."

Buck sits up, picks at the blanket. "Would you sleep in the bed as well?" he mumbles.

"Buck... are you sure that's...? I don't want to..."

"My ex boyfriend just nearly killed me," Buck says, his voice a little tight and bordering on hysteria. "I haven't been alone since it happened and I don't want to be."

Right. Right. This is less about it being Eddie and more about Buck being scared for his safety. Eddie is more than happy to oblige him, but-

"I can call Maddie?" he asks, hesitantly. "If you want someone else-"

"I don't want anyone else, I want you," Buck says plaintively. "I know things are fucked up between us but - you came and found me and I feel safer with you."

Eddie is sure Buck wouldn't be admitting to this if he wasn't exhausted and on painkillers, but he is, and Eddie can't just leave him after that confession.

"Okay," Eddie says, and Buck's face smooths over with relief. "I'll stay with you. C'mon."

He leads Buck to the bedroom, allows the door to mostly close behind them. Buck stumbles along after him, blinking at the lamplight.

They change, Buck more slowly than Eddie, and then drift to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Buck's hair is curling over his forehead chaotically, and Eddie almost reaches up to smooth it back but it still feels a little too intimate for him, with the light on and the mirror in front of him.

When they get into bed, Buck rolls to the middle, eyes closing almost immediately. There's a careful foot of space between them that feels totally wrong.

"Eddie?" Buck asks sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for bringing me here. And taking care of me."

His throat feels tight, and his eyes prick with tears, and he realises in a split second that he's going to lose his shit - maybe it's been coming on all day, maybe not, but either way, he's not going to do it in front of Buck.

"You're welcome," he whispers. "I'm just gonna go check on Chris, okay?"

"Okay."

He slides out of bed, pads down the hallway, and shuts the bathroom door behind him.

The moment it's closed, the damn breaks. He's bent over the sink and holding on like if he grips hard enough the porcelain will give way beneath his fingertips, gasping, chest tight and tears rolling down his cheeks.

He can't let Buck see this. Or Christopher. Both of them need him to keep it together, especially now. But he's drowning, lost - Buck nearly died around the same time Eddie realises he's capable of having romantic feelings for men, and he doesn't know where they're going or what the future holds, only that he's terrified. Of therapy and what it will uncover, of the custody issues with Shannon, of Buck's ex coming back to try and hurt him again.

Terrified, terrified. Always afraid and always hiding. Nothing has changed. But something is going to have to.

~*~

He wakes at half past two in the morning to the blankets being jerked off him.

He mustn't have been sleeping deeply, because he's awake and alert immediately and reaching for the lamp. He turns it on to see what's going on, and is confronted with the image of Buck, sitting up, eyes wild.

He sits up too, and Buck twitches before facing him.

"It was a nightmare," Eddie murmurs, slowly, and reaches out to touch Buck's shoulder. "Whatever you dreamed about - it wasn't real. You're here with me."

He's had experience with these kinds of nightmares. The ones that are just shy of unbelievable and have you waking up, sweating and delirious in panic, unable to fully believe that you're in bed, safe, at home. That the blood in the sand and the screams are just a distant memory, not reoccurring.

Buck swallows and nods. He's wearing a shirt, mostly to protect his surgery site, and it's all twisted around his torso. Eddie fixes it absently, his eyes drawn to the weal in Buck's head where the staples sit, black against the blonde of his hair and paleness of his skin.

Buck reaches up to touch, and Eddie pulls his wrist down. "Does it look bad?" he asks ruefully.

"No." Eddie sort of smiles. "You look kind of badass actually."

Buck ducks his head and smiles. "Well, I definitely appreciate you saying that. I don't feel it."

"You'll be better in no time," Eddie says. "Promise."

Buck actually looks comforted by that, and he yawns, looks around Eddie's sparse bedroom like he's grounding himself, then shuffles back under the covers. Eddie follows him down, watching as Buck's eyes fog over with the threat of sleep.

He must be at least somewhat comforted by Eddie's words and presence if he's able to sleep again this quickly, and that's... really fucking nice to know, truthfully.

"Go back to sleep," Eddie murmurs, sinking down next to him and watching Buck close his eyes. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

~*~

The next morning brings the alarm for Eddie to take Christopher to school.

He almost climbs into his work uniform before remembering he's on leave while Buck recovers; instead, he puts on a pair of light wash jeans and a warm, thick henley, and turns to look at the bed before he leaves.

Buck is curled under the covers, the top of his head visible. He's managed to wrap most of the duvet around himself once Eddie left.

Eddie sits down on the edge of the bed, wincing a little when Buck makes a soft murmuring noise, then moves. His eyes - the only other part of him Eddie can see - blink open for a moment, then close again.

"Eds?" Buck mumbles into the pillow.

Eddie smiles. "I'm just taking Chris to school," he whispers. "Go back to sleep."

Buck sighs, rolls, and buries his face in the duvet to block out the lamplight. Winter is in full-swing, and it's dark in the mornings still when Eddie wakes Christopher.

He gets Chris ready for school, allows him to gently kiss Buck goodbye - without waking him - and then drops him off. When he gets back, Buck has moved from the bed to the couch, wrapped in the Spider-Man blanket and nursing a mug of tea. There's a second one, steaming, on the coffee table.

Eddie takes the invitation, gets Buck's pills and some crackers before joining him. Buck eats readily, leaning into Eddie's side with a sigh. It's hardly as close as they've been before, but it's still nice.

"I wanted to run something by you," he says.

"Shoot," Buck says, eyes roving Eddie's face curiously.

Eddie takes a deep, steadying breath. Truthfully, he doesn't really know why it feels important to run this by Buck, almost like he's asking permission for it - it's less a sense that Buck's toes might feel stepped on and more that Eddie feels like he should have some say in the matter, for whatever reason, as if Eddie's career choice affects Buck.

He knows Buck will support him. But still.

"I've been thinking," he says softly, "that maybe I don't want to be a mechanic anymore."

Buck's face does this odd thing, has this little flicker of familiarity in it that Eddie can't quite place. "What will you do instead?" he asks curiously.

Eddie swallows. His mouth feels dry. "I was thinking I might join the LAFD," he mumbles.

He's looking down when he says it and he's surprised when Buck edges his chin up gently. He's smiling, from ear to ear, wide and genuine. "For real?" he asks.

"Yeah," Eddie mumbles, feeling inexplicably shy. "You think maybe...?"

"Eddie," Buck says, "when I said you fit in at the firehouse, I meant it more than one way, man. I've seen you in action at that bus crash." His face softens a little, then. "But like... why now?" he asks tentatively. "Not that I'm trying to put you off, but... you've seen some of the stuff I've had to do. Afghanistan..."

"That's why," Eddie says, taking the risk and making himself vulnerable. He's always played his cards close to his chest, always been terrified of letting people see him and what really matters to him - more ways to get hurt, like that.

But Buck deserves to know. Buck should know, if Eddie's getting the right feeling about this fragile foundation they've been building. "I just - I need more, Buck. I need to know someone has your back out there the way I would. And... I'm the only person I'm for sure does that."

He looks away; he doesn't want to see Buck's expression. "I know I screwed things up with your confession," he admits. "And that we need to talk about it. I know that. But it wasn't - it wasn't ever because I didn't care about you. It was because I was scared. I know we haven't addressed it properly, and I want to. I just..."

"You didn't want to spring it on me while I was in hospital?" Buck guesses.

"Yeah, exactly," Eddie breathes out. "But I know I've got your back, Buck. And that you've got mine. I want to do this."

Buck's mouth opens and closes; his eyes have gone all big and soft the way they do when he's surprised and touched by something, making him look years younger. Then he moves, sliding and putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder to steady himself as he slides into Eddie's lap. He settles with a slight wince and takes a moment, his thighs gradually settling on Eddie's.

And Eddie - well, Eddie almost panics. Almost wants to get Buck off him, because they're supposed to be fixing things and maybe this isn't how two people fixing things should act, with this familiarity or closeness, but dios, Buck is warm and Eddie was so, so scared for him.

"Don't push me off," Buck murmurs. "I want to be here."

Eddie's throat feels tight. "Can I hug you?" he asks, and his voice breaks.

Buck nods, and Eddie wraps both arms around him, careful not to hurt but also careful to squeeze so that Buck knows he means it - maybe if he holds hard enough, all the broken pieces will start fusing back together. This - he's wanted this; to hold Buck and just feel that it's okay, to know he's safe, only he's been so terrified of crossing some invisible line and fucking it up even worse that he hasn't known how to ask.

Buck would give him anything, and that's part of the problem.

"It's okay, Eddie," Buck's voice comes from above him, softly. Eddie realises he's crying, silently, into Buck's shoulder, and grips him tighter - partly to stop Buck from pulling away to look, and partly because he's wanted to hold Buck since he first walked into his apartment after he was released from hospital. "Eddie... I'm okay. I really am."

"I'm sorry," Eddie whispers to Buck's shoulder. Then he pulls back - if he's going to apologise, it should be to Buck's face. He looks up into it, sees how concerned Buck looks, and almost breaks all over again. "I'm sorry for everything, Buck."

"Thank you," Buck says, quietly. It's bittersweet - the acceptance of Eddie's apology, and the confirmation that he fucked up. 

Buck licks his lips, puts his hands on the back of Eddie's neck, and looks at him. Eddie's hand drifts to the hip he knows bothers Buck and digs in a thumb, hoping to stave off the soreness before it can get hold. He's still not sure Buck should sit like this, but Buck knows his limits. And Buck said he wanted to be here.

"Remember the first time we ever sat like this?" Buck asks. "It uh, it went a little differently."

Thank God, Eddie thinks, for Buck's recognition of his apology and his willingness to move on to another topic, seemingly realising that Eddie is spent. He knows it's an out - a way for him to pick up the thread of banter and run with it, an olive branch for some semblance of normalcy.

"I remember," Eddie murmurs back. "I mean I remember more begging..."

"Oh please, I wasn't begging," Buck scoffs.

"You said help me in Spanish, mi corazón," Eddie smiles.

Buck smiles back at him, teeth white as he lets his head dip, just a little. It's meant to look bashful but Eddie knows he's being played, strokes his fingers through the short hairs at the back of Buck's neck with his free hand.

"You're really gonna do it?" Buck asks. "Join the LAFD?"

"Yeah. I am. I wanted to ask you first, and Christopher. But... I think it's what I want to do, you know? What I really want to do. The garage was never supposed to be a long term thing."

Buck leans into him sleepily, and Eddie lets his hands roam Buck's broad, muscular back, rubbing when he feels knots. He moves carefully around the remaining bruising from his fight with Matt, categorising, ever the army medic. "You okay?" he asks quietly. "You looked like you were in pain before."

"Moving hurts," Buck admits. "I really am happy for you, Eds. I think it's perfect."

Eddie smiles. Buck's settled easily on him, like he's not worried about Eddie hurting him, with his arms on Eddie's shoulders. Eddie's still surprised that Buck is able to sit like this without feeling awkward - but, hell, maybe he shouldn't be. Maybe he should just be happy that Buck seems happy with him.

"I'll make you breakfast," Eddie says, and Buck smiles, allows Eddie to help him off. "What do you feel like?"

"Pancakes," Buck answers, and Eddie never knew he could feel so relieved over a person wanting to eat something.

"Anything you want," he says, and Buck blushes, and it might not have a label but it feels real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's give it up for bathroom breakdowns amirite lmao


	14. Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW DID EVERYONE LIKE THE NEW EP? i loved it actually, i still can't wait for eddie begins and i'm holding out hope for a buck begins. 
> 
> thanks heaps for the love on the last chapter - hopefully you guys enjoy this one too! <3

Buck helps him with his LAFD application.

It is kind of a bonus, Eddie has to admit - Buck's been through the whole process successfully, so if anyone knows what it takes to get through, it's him.

"You need to put your silver star down," Buck urges. "I know you hate having to talk about it, but they'll really like that. Like, a proven track record."

"Take your pills," Eddie says absently, trying to work out how he wants to answer question two.

They're sitting together on the couch, thighs pressed together, with Eddie eating lunch and Buck absently nibbling on some peanuts. He saw the doctor the day before, who said he's doing well. He definitely looks better - his cheeks are flushed with health and he's started to regain some weight.

He's also having nightmares almost every night, but with Eddie beside him in bed, he's settling again easily, and the therapist he's seeing is working to reduce them.

He's been staying at Eddie's for three nights now. The first was the hardest, and they're still attempting to find some middle ground between them that won't splinter with their combined weight, but Buck is staying in Eddie's bed and packing Chris's lunches and Eddie is making sure Buck's taking his meds. All of them, and not just selectively the antibiotics and blood thinners.

They've been sleeping in Eddie's bed. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Eddie," Buck whines, bringing him back to the present.

"Buck," Eddie mock-whines back.

"The silver star," Buck urges. "You have to, man."

"I will," Eddie says uncomfortably. "But I don't like it."

"They're not gonna ask you to talk about your record, you know," Buck says, hooking his chin over Eddie's shoulder in what Eddie can only describe as a brazenly affectionate manner. "It just helps."

Eddie nods. Buck seems content to lean on him, so Eddie doesn't move. "I know," he murmurs. "Thanks for helping. It'll get my foot in the door at least." He puts the laptop down and leans back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch - Buck seems to take this as an invitation, because he shuffles closer and plants himself firmly into Eddie's side.

They don't talk about this kind of open daylight affection, because there's only so many places it can lead in the living room with Buck recovering from surgery. Eddie has learned that he was getting Buck Lite during their fake relationship - Buck is possibly the biggest human teddy bear he's met.

"You can help me with the rest tomorrow," he says jokingly.

Buck goes quiet for a moment, and then he sits up a little. "I was thinking I might head home tonight," he says quietly.

Eddie's heart falls and splats somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. He figured Buck would go home eventually - he had to - but he wasn't expecting it to be this soon.

"You don't want to stay another night?" he asks. "I mean, tomorrow night is Disney night."

"Eddie," Buck says gently, "I need to go home sometime."

Eddie resists the urge to pout and say "but I don't want you to" the way he knows Chris is going to anyway. "I packed enough stuff for you to stay for a week," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "You're welcome to stay here."

Buck sighs, uneasily, chewing his bottom lip. "I know," he murmurs. "But... look, we haven't talked. About everything."

Eddie's brain stalls out. He opens his mouth, but Buck beats him to the punch.

"I know it's because I was in hospital and on meds," Buck says. "And then when I came back - well, I haven't pushed it and I know you didn't bring it up so I could recover. And I appreciate that, man, I really do."

"There's a but in here somewhere," Eddie says, smiling weakly.

"But," Buck says quietly, "we do need to talk, and before we do, I just... really need to get my head around some stuff. I can't think clearly around you."

Eddie feels oddly comforted by that. It's an admission, in at least some way, that Buck still has feelings for him... even if Eddie did kind of trample them. He can't untrample them, of course, but he can work with making up for it if there are still feelings there.

"Okay," he says. "I get it. I'll drop you home, yeah? Are you gonna be okay there on your own?"

"Yeah. I'll be okay."

~*~

He does drop Buck home and insists on carrying everything inside, but after that, he leaves Buck to it.

Buck's a grown man, and Eddie has to trust that if he needs help, he'll ask for it, even if he isn't asking Eddie. He also just has to trust - and hope - that Buck will come back to him eventually.

And accept it if he doesn't.

He gives Buck space, which is painful after being so worried about him for so long, but it's needed, he knows. Chris doesn't quite understand why Buck can't just stay forever, which is another conversation that involves sitting at the dinner table seriously.

Eddie does his own thinking while Buck's doing his. If he's being honest with himself (which is painful, honestly - Eddie isn't necessarily a man of a lot of self-reflection, given that he hasn't had to be in over five years) there are a few things that caused his freakout at Buck's admission.

The first, and the foremost: Buck is very much male, and Eddie has always considered himself straight. He realises he's categorised his feelings as friendship purely on the basis of his sexuality. He can admit now that there is something a bit not straight or platonic about getting Buck off.

The second: Shannon.

This is the messier one for him - Shannon fucked him up, which he now recognises, only there's been so much damage that it's hard for him to remember what a healthy relationship is like. He feels guilty for that, almost - God knows Buck has his own shitty past relationships to deal with - but at the same time, he can't change how it happened.

He can stop using the same thinking patterns with Buck, though. He didn't see Buck's feelings develop even though in hindsight they were obvious; the way he never rejected anything Eddie had to offer him, the hesitancy in accepting it, the hurt feelings as early as a month in.

So he has a few things to work on: paying more attention to Buck's feelings (especially when Buck isn't being forthcoming with them) and dealing with his own sexuality crisis. He can't deny Buck is attractive, or that his feelings towards the man are very much not platonic in nature. What he's having trouble accepting is what that means for his life if he chooses to move forward with this.

His and Christopher's. Eddie and Shannon are the only parents he's ever known. If he gets into this, Buck will be some sort of a co-parent. It's inevitable. And Eddie's just not sure he's ready for that, yet. Ready for another person in Chris's life who could hurt him like Shannon did - even as he already trusts Buck implicitly.

Maybe Buck was right and the time apart was good, after all.

~*~

His phone rings two days later, and he's surprised to see it's Buck.

It's hard to explain what happens to his nervous system in that moment - his vision almost fizzes and his heart pounds and his hands are sweaty. He's never been so eager to rush headlong into abject terror before.

"Hey," he says, trying to keep his tone casual when he answers. He's sure he fails miserably.

"Hi, Eddie." Buck sounds - well, healthy, which is good. "Um... can I ask a favour?"

"What? Yeah, of course, anything you need." He winces; that was laying it on a bit thick, he thinks.

"I uh... are you free later?" Buck asks. "I have to get the staples out, and they don't want me to drive afterwards. I can ask Maddie if you're not-"

"When should I come get you?" Eddie interrupts.

"Two?" He can hear Buck smiling into the phone. "I really appreciate it, man, thank you. There's better things for you to do with time off-"

"Buy me a coffee and we'll call it even," Eddie says. "I'll be there."

~*~

He pulls up at Buck's apartment complex at ten to two.

He's nervous as he heads up the steps, punches in the key-code, and enters the elevator. Still, he's excited. Buck called him, first, not anyone else. That has to mean something, right?

Buck takes almost zero time to answer his front door, which means Eddie has almost zero time to prepare himself. Buck's wearing a white t-shirt under a red flannel and black jeans, and, to Eddie's surprise, a grey beanie.

"Hey," he says, and he looks so healthy Eddie could cry.

"Hey," Eddie responds, and they stand there and look at each other for a moment before Buck's face splits into a smile, and he leans forward to hug Eddie tightly. His fingers do that spreading thing, like he's trying to cling to as much of Eddie as possible.

"I missed you," he says.

"I missed you too." Eddie breathes in his aftershave, woody and fresh, and sinks into Buck's body. He's warm and solid beneath Eddie's grip, pliant, genuinely happy to be with him. A knot he didn't know he had in his chest loosens.

"So," Eddie says. "Staples out today, huh?"

Buck pulls away, smiling. "Yup. Looking forward to not wearing the beanie anymore."

"You're trying to cover them up?" Eddie asks, concerned.

"No, not really," Buck says. "It's just - it's cold. And they're made of metal and they get cold, and then I have this weird pinpricky cold spot on my head."

Eddie snorts at the description, gazing up at Buck with what he's sure is a dopey expression. He can't help it - Buck's clean-shaven and there are little curls of blonde sticking out from under the beanie, and his birthmark is vivid pink against his skin, and his eyes are bright and alert and so stupidly blue Eddie could drown in him.

He reaches out and rubs his thumb over the birthmark gently. Buck sinks into his touch, taking a step closer, sighing.

"I really did miss you," Eddie says. "I meant it."

"I know," Buck mumbles happily.

~*~

Getting the staples out is a relatively quick procedure for Buck's head. The stomach staples take longer, and Eddie's not usually a queasy kinda guy, but something about seeing bits of metal forcibly pulled from Buck's skin does him in.

"You okay, Eds?" Buck asks, after he's sat up and put his shirt back on. "You're really pale."

"I'm okay," Eddie says faintly.

Buck eyes him worriedly. "Maybe we should eat something before we leave?" he asks. "I'm definitely hungry."

"You're always hungry," Eddie replies, immediately, grateful to Buck for giving him an out - not making him admit that he really does feel off about watching the staples get removed.

They sit down for lunch at a spot around the corner, and Buck engages in his usual ritual of tearing up lettuce pieces and eating them with his hands, and Eddie's never felt so fondly about someone before now. He's also ditched the beanie, and doesn't particularly seem to mind if people are staring at the vicious weal of the scar on his head.

Eddie wants to fight every single one of them, though he restrains himself. He doesn't think Buck would like it much if he started a fight with the elderly couple sitting next to them.

"So," Buck says, "what did you do in my absence, other than mope?"

It's a joke, a way for Eddie to roll his eyes and return the gentle ribbing if he wants - an out. He doesn't take it. "I uh," he says. "I went to therapy, actually."

Buck blinks. "You went to therapy?"

"Yeah." Eddie rubs his neck. "I just - how I acted, it was inexcusable, and... I've probably needed it for a long time."

When he looks up, Buck's smiling faintly. He looks almost healthy with the staples gone. "Guess we match," he says. "I went too."

"No shit," Eddie says, and then they both laugh a little. It seems a little ridiculous, in hindsight - if they'd both just communicated like this before...

"Thanks for bringing me, Eds," Buck says, after he's done tormenting his salad.

"Thanks for asking me," Eddie replies. "I - it was good to hear from you."

Buck rubs the back of his neck, then looks up, looking a little flustered and shy and like he wants to ask something, but is worried about the outcome.

"What's up?" Eddie asks, trying to save him the trouble.

"Can I come back?" Buck blurts, and then his jaw snaps shut like he's said too much.

Eddie feels a grin stretching his face. "To mine?"

Buck nods.

"Yeah. Let's grab some stuff from yours on the way."

Buck blinks at him, a soft expression of wonderment taking over his face. "It's that easy?" he asks tentatively.

Eddie takes a chance, reaches across the table and laces his fingers with Buck's. His are bonier where Buck's are built for grabbing and holding, but they slot together perfectly, and it feels so, so fucking good to do it in public and have it mean something.

"Christopher and I have really missed having you around," he says, and Buck beams.

~*~

They stop by at Buck's on the way to Eddie's, only really a few minutes out of the way, and Buck insists on bringing the huge teddy bear Chim and Hen got him.

"I think Chris probably has more use for him than I do," Buck laughs.

"You'll never get it back," Eddie warns.

"That's okay." Buck smiles at him uncertainly. "Not like I'll never see him again, right?"

This, Eddie realises, is a version of Buck who isn't necessarily afraid to seek reassurance, even if he does immensely fear rejection. And Eddie - well, Eddie promised himself he'd be better at trying to read Buck when Buck was being a little less than forthcoming, and this is where it starts.

He reaches out, his hand settling somewhere on Buck's waist, rubs his thumb into the lower portion of Buck's ribcage. He tries not to be so stupidly gratified by the way Buck's body bursts into a flurry of shivers beneath his touch, or the pleased smile that overtakes his face.

Not for the first time, Eddie thinks that Buck is reckless with his emotions, with his heart, out in the open where he's easy to read and easy to burn. This time, he's not going to be one of the people who hurts it, accidentally or otherwise.

"Exactly," he says. "You can see him whenever you want."

~*~

When they get back, Chris is still with abuela, and, after unloading the car, Eddie thinks there's no time like the present.

"So," he says, nervously, after he's made them both something to drink - Buck had all but demanded hot chocolate with the frigid weather - "um, how'd your soul-searching go?"

Buck looks relieved that Eddie brought it up. "I... yeah, let's talk about it. I guess." Buck winces. "Eds..."

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts, which is not the way he really wanted to start this pivotal life conversation. "For - for making you leave. When you came over." He looks away from Buck; he can't handle remembering the broken-hearted expression on Buck's face when he told him to go, the way he didn't even argue - the way he expected Eddie's rejection. "I... I didn't know what I was feeling, but I shouldn't have made you leave. Not like that."

Buck takes a deep breath. His fingers are clutched so tightly around his mug Eddie thinks it might break. "In the hospital," he murmurs. "I don't... I don't really remember a lot of the first few days. I know you were there when I woke up. I remember that."

"You asked me not to leave," Eddie says, his throat tight. He doesn't want to remember Buck pale and thin in the hospital bed.

Buck bushes. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Eddie interrupts, and Buck looks surprised. "Buck, don't - please stop apologising for needing things from me. Or even just wanting them. You're allowed to ask me for things."

"Okay," Buck says uncertainly. He doesn't quite believe it yet, but Eddie hopes Buck gives him the chance to prove he means it. "Eddie I - I'm so fucking glad you were at the hospital, man. I was scared and I was in pain but it didn't feel as bad when you were there."

Yeah. Buck was groggy the first few days, didn't seem that sure of where he was. He never said anything, but Eddie knew.

"I just - we didn't talk," Buck murmurs. "I didn't know why you were there, you know? I kept thinking you were still mad about Chris coming to the firehouse. But... I think I said sorry for that in the ambulance...?"

"You did." Eddie's throat feels horribly tight. "You told me you called the school so I'd know he was there. Because I kept ignoring your calls."

"So you know I didn't put him up to it," Buck says earnestly.

"I never really did think that." Eddie rubs his face. "I was just angry and scared and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It was wrong of me."

Buck looks like he wasn't quite expecting the apology. "You brought Chris and you were there every day," he says. "But we didn't talk so I was kind of confused about the whole thing. The phone call - you said it wasn't real. That it never was. Then I woke up and you were there."

Eddie rubs his face exhaustedly. This is it. It's been a nice day but Buck's clearly about to call it quits, say he can't deal with Eddie's drama anymore and honestly, who could blame him? Eddie's a goddamn mess.

"When you came by my place, though," Buck mumbles. "The day I was discharged? You said it's real. That it was real. I..." He looks like he's struggling for words. "Did you mean it, or was it just - were you just scared because I'd nearly died? Because I get it if that's the reason, but I can't-"

Eddie reaches over and puts a hand on Buck's face, which effectively kills the other man's sentence. He doesn't really know what to say that he hasn't already said, or how to put it another way, but he can sit here and let his thoughts bleed into his expression and hope Buck sees it for what it really is.

Buck's eyes roam his face, wide, surprised. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and Eddie follows the movement, briefly, before holding his gaze again. Buck is painfully attuned to other people and all Eddie can hope now is that Buck can see him.

"Oh," Buck breathes. "So... not because I almost died?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"Will you tell me why you freaked out, then?" Buck asks gently. "So I can avoid it next time?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, drops his hand from Buck's face to his knee. "It's gonna sound dumb," he mumbles. "But... okay, I thought I was straight. So even when we were having sex and hanging out and Chris was asking for you when he was upset I figured we were just friends even though if you'd been a girl I would've assumed we were together."

Buck blinks at him. "Eddie," he says, "you came on my chest. _Twice_."

There's a brief pause, and then they're both melting into nervous giggles. When Buck puts it like that, it does seem kind of ridiculous that Eddie didn't work it out a lot sooner.

"I know, Dios, I'm dumb, okay?" he groans, laughter still bubbling up in his chest.

"You're not." Buck shuffles forwards, his eyes bright and happy, and he takes Eddie's face in both his hands. "Well, if you are, I am as well."

Eddie puts his hands over Buck's, tracing the shape of his face and drinking in how genuinely happy he looks. "Dios," he murmurs. "Estoy tan contento de tenerte de vuelta."

Buck doesn't know enough Spanish to know what Eddie said, but his face softens like the tone of voice used was enough for him to get the gist of it, and he leans forward to kiss Eddie gently, softly, like he's worried about scaring him off. Eddie wants to clutch back and crawl inside Buck and never, ever let him go again, but it's too soon, and they have to go slow.

He pulls away, holding onto Buck's waist. "I got scared because it felt so real," he murmurs. "I just - I wasn't expecting you, Buck. I don't know what this means for me or for Chris but - I want to find out. I really want to find out. If you'll have us-"

Buck kisses him again, and for the first time in months, Eddie feels like things might be turning around.

~*~

When Chris comes home, he's delighted to see Buck, and makes a beeline for him the moment he notices Buck's shoes in the doorway.

Abuela is with him, and Eddie meets her at the door. "Oh," she says, her eyes twinkling. "Entonces arreglaste las cosas con el bonito, verdad?"

"Abuela," Eddie groans. "Deja de burlarte. Él podría escucharte..."

"Oh? Él entiende español ahora?"

"Abuela," Eddie whines.

"Ten cuidado con ese chico!" she teases. "El es un cariño!"

"I know, abuela," Eddie smiles.

"What are they saying, Chris?" Buck's appeared in the doorway, with Christopher in his arms, and Eddie is immediately worried that he's going to re-injure himself with the weight. He takes Christopher, and Buck lets him, which is enough of a hint that maybe Buck is sore and just stubbornly not saying anything.

"They're talking about you," Chris giggles. "Abuelita says you're nice."

"Sold out by my own son," Eddie sighs. "Chris, we talked about being gentle with Buck, right?"

"I know, Daddy. I just got excited."

Abuela hugs Buck gently, gives him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You look better, mí amor," she says, smiling.

"I feel a lot better." Buck is flushed under the praise. "Thank you for the tamales. Way better than hospital food."

"Oh, so my grandson did save you some?" she asks, amused. "I didn't know if they'd make it to the hospital."

"Abuela, deja de avergonzarme..."

"Never, mí amor," she says fondly. "Now all three of you go relax! You're skin and bone and need to be fed!"

Categorically untrue, although Eddie is a wiser man than to argue with his abuela, so he leads Buck and Chris into the living room for what he suspects will turn into a Disney marathon.

~*~

"Hey, Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

He's doing the dishes while Buck sits at the counter, idly playing around on his laptop. Buck's tone immediately gets his attention, though, and he turns around.

Buck swallows. "What happened to Matt?" he asks quietly.

Eddie blinks, opens his mouth. "No one told you anything?"

"Maddie said I didn't need to worry. That's all I know." Buck winces. "I didn't want to ask because I didn't want to think about it but I - well, what happened to him?"

"He's in a coma," Eddie says, slowly and softly, assessing Buck's body language carefully. "The doctors don't think he'll make it."

Buck doesn't say anything. He just nods.

"Do you... remember anything?" Eddie asks carefully.

"I think I pushed him to try and get him away from me." Buck blinks. "I don't really remember it that well. My head was killing me. He still had the knife. I gave Athena a statement in the hospital, but... I remembered even less then."

"I don't think anyone expects you to remember anything," Eddie says.

Buck nods. Then, "I need to go see him."

"Buck-"

"I just - I need to know he's actually in a coma," Buck mumbles. "That he isn't gonna come back, you know?"

"I'll go with you, then," Eddie says. He's not sure this is a great idea, but at least he'll be there if Buck has a breakdown or - well, truthfully, he doesn't know how Buck will react. He does know that no matter what, he wants to be there for the fallout.

~*~

Matt is around the same height as Buck, with shoulder-length brown hair and pale skin. It's hard to see what his features might look like without life support apparatus attached to him, but Eddie finds he doesn't care. He'll have nightmares about Matt either way.

"He said he wanted me back," Buck says.

Eddie swallows. Buck's been out of hospital for over a week, now, and they haven't discussed what happened at all, aside from the fact that Eddie and Athena showed up to save him. Buck has been tight-lipped and not suffering from nightmares that Eddie can tell - but he hasn't been at Eddie's place every night, either.

"I don't get it," Buck says blankly. "He left me, you know? And I spent fucking ages running until I was as far away from him as I thought I was gonna get. Didn't hear from him... nothing."

"Did he say anything?" Eddie asks softly. "When..."

Buck swallows and nods. "Yeah. He said he - well, he found the pictures of us. Online. You're the first guy I've - well, the first guy since him. The rest were women."

Eddie feels queasy. He's known guys like that - guys who see their significant others as possessions, not people, and aggressively to mark their territory. This guy never saw Buck as a person, clearly - just some scared kid he could come back and torment whenever he wanted.

"He was angry I tried to replace him," Buck says, voice wobbling. "God, Eddie, he was so angry. I haven't seen anyone that angry since - well, since he left."

He slips his hand into Buck's, and Buck clings to him. "I fought back," Buck mumbles. "You know that right? I didn't just-"

Eddie steps in front of him, so he can't see Matt, and puts his hands on the sides of Buck's neck. "Hey," he says gently. "I know you did, Buck. But for what it's worth, even if you hadn't, no one would have thought any less of you."

Buck closes his eyes, leans into Eddie's grip a little, and nods, licking his lips and swallowing. He looks about two seconds away from a meltdown, and Eddie pulls him in close until he's sure Buck's legs can support his weight, until Buck's breathing evens out.

"I think we should leave," Eddie says. Buck doesn't need to stay here any longer.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Buck mumbles.

~*~

Buck doesn't speak at all on the way back to Eddie's, and his skin is shockingly white.

Eddie tries conversation a few times, but Buck isn't engaging with it. Instead, he puts a hand on Buck's leg, just above the knee, and strokes his thumb over Buck's joint. That seems to help, at least a little.

When they get inside, Eddie takes off his scarf and jacket and goes to put the kettle on, thinking maybe some coffee is a good idea, when he hears Buck throwing up in the bathroom.

He freezes to the spot. For a panic-inducing moment, he's got no idea what to do - if it was him, he wouldn't want an audience, but he's got no idea where Buck's head is at right now or if he even wants to see Eddie. He hadn't even mentioned feeling sick. Eddie's starting to realise that maybe whatever Buck went through with Matt, they may not have scratched the surface of finding out.

He finally unfreezes when the sounds of Buck retching have stopped. He thinks he can probably be excused for making the wrong choice in good faith, and heads down the hallway.

The bathroom door is shut, and Eddie knows better than to just barge in. He knocks, quietly, and says, "Buck? You okay in there?"

A long pause. "Yeah."

"Can I come in?"

Even longer pause. Eddie bites his lip, heart pounding, wondering if he should just open the door anyway - but he doesn't want to obliterate Buck's boundaries.

"Yeah," Buck's voice comes, small.

Eddie opens the door slowly, finds Buck wedged in between the toilet and the sink. The space is a little larger than the one Eddie found him in last time, but it's so clearly and painfully the same coping mechanism Eddie's heart breaks.

Buck meets his eyes. They're a little wet and a little red. He gives Eddie a tiny smile, barely more than a twitch of his lips.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, kneeling down. "You okay?"

Buck nods. He's still as white as a sheet. "Sorry," he croaks.

"Don't say sorry." Eddie reaches for the washcloth he knows is sitting on the sink, gets on his knees to wet it, and then wipes Buck's face with it gently. "Tough day, huh?"

Buck nods, reaches up to flush the toilet, and then begins to wriggle out of the tight space of his own accord. Eddie's never felt so damn relieved before. He thought he'd have to coax Buck out, but here he is, moving of his own free will.

Eddie slides back, trying to give him room, but Buck says, "Wait," and then shuffles over until he's close enough to grab Eddie in a hug.

Eddie sighs, settling on the floor to hold him properly. Buck's warm, and he's not shaking, and he's clearly present enough to leave his hiding spot even if he's not quite verbal at the moment, and Eddie's grateful for that.

After a few moments, Buck pulls away, avoiding his eyes. "Kinda gross to hug on the bathroom floor," he mumbles, and Eddie laughs.

"Oh well. I've got a kid. Seen and done worse." He stands, helping Buck to his feet. "Rinse your mouth out. I'll make us some lunch."

~*~

He leaves Buck to rinse his mouth out and do whatever it is he needs to do, and he returns to the kitchen.

He thinks about Matt. The man was the same size as Buck - maybe even a little bigger, though not with the same amount of muscle mass. He thinks about an eighteen-year-old Buck running from his parents' home, right into the arms of this guy - eighteen-year-old Buck who was probably as doe-eyed as he is now and lankier with youth, and his gut twists.

Even now, even knowing Buck is safe, he can't stand to think of him in danger. From anyone, much less someone who was supposed to love him. And why come back anyway, if he's the one who left? What was the point? Sure, he might've been angry Buck moved on, seemingly, with Eddie - but to know that, he'd have to be monitoring Buck.

The thought makes him feel sick. This guy was watching Buck, showing up at his doorstep, putting his life in danger. And Eddie did nothing.

"Eds?"

He looks up. Buck's standing next to him, still a little pale but dry-eyed. He smells faintly of toothpaste.

"I think you're done with the tomato," Buck says sheepishly.

The tomato he'd been cutting up for a salad is in tiny pieces on the wooden cutting board. He pulls a face. "Right."

"What are you thinking about?" Buck asks curiously.

"Nothing," Eddie says, dumping the tomato into the salad. "Chicken caesar and some sandwiches okay?"

"Yeah," Buck replies with a smile.

Eddie finishes up and puts their plates on the table. Buck digs in right away - he's hungry now, apparently, which pleases Eddie. Buck must feel better and at least comfortable if he's able to eat now.

But Eddie - Eddie needs to talk about this. Needs to know why Buck retreats to the bathroom, even in broad daylight. There's a lot of things he needs to know really, but this tops the list.

Eddie looks down at his salad, carefully not making eye contact with Buck. He stabs a piece of chicken on his fork, sticks it in his mouth, chews, and says, "So why do you... why do you hide in the bathroom?"

There's a long pause. When he looks up, Buck is poking at his food pensively. He'll answer, and Eddie can already tell that by how his shoulders are a little tense - but not in the way that suggests he's scared or wants to get up and leave.

"My dad used to push me and Maddie around a lot," he says, and the confession is so sudden and so... bold, in the way Buck doesn't beat around the bush or sugarcoat it, that Eddie's taken aback. "Me more than her, because I'm a guy. When I was really little I worked out that if I hid in the bathroom there was a really tight space between the wall and the counter that he couldn't pull me out of."

Jesus. Jesus. Eddie doesn't know what to say to that, and he just - stares at Buck, blinking, opening his mouth only to be lost for words.

"Then I moved in with Matt and he never hit me, but he didn't have to," Buck admits. "I was scared of him anyway. I kind of figured he'd start whaling on me eventually, so I went back to the bathroom thing. I never knew when he was going to so it felt... safer to just do it right away. He couldn't be bothered trying to get me to come out."

Eddie rubs his face. His eyes are watering; Buck, by the sounds of it, went right from his abusive parental home to his abusive boyfriend's home, with no reprieve. "And now?" he asks, his voice breaking.

"Sometimes I have nightmares about it," Buck mumbles. "Or - well, I just have nightmares sometimes; lots has happened. I've just always gone to the bathroom. Yours has that really tight spot between the sink and the shower. I don't do it because I'm scared of you though - it's only ever when I wake up and I don't know where I am."

"Does that happen often?" Eddie asks.

Here, Buck hesitates. He clearly wants to tell the truth, but he seems to think he's reached the invisible line in the sand of asking too much, and is reluctant to say so.

"Please," Eddie says.

"It happens more often when I stay here," Buck says, looking down at his coffee. He's got the mug nestled between his wide, gentle hands, and Eddie's inexplicably jealous of it.

It's been a long time since he touched Buck in any meaningful manner, but they're going slow. Well - Eddie's trying to, anyway. He's trying to show Buck he can be trusted, work his way back up to what they were like before.

It's slower now that it's real.

"When you stay here?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah. Like - when I'm at home, I'd do some grounding stuff. But when I'm somewhere I don't know it's overwhelming and it's easier to just go sit in the bathroom."

"Grounding," Eddie says aloud. "Is there any way I can help with that?"

Buck shrugs and smiles, a little awkwardly, like he thinks he's said too much. "Just helps to have something familiar around, that's all."

~*~

The next time Eddie's at Buck's place - which is two days later, when Christopher realises he left something of great importance (a school project) at Buck's - he might sort of pilfer Buck's alarm clock.

And the little paper-mache statue Christopher made him that sits on the night stand.

And a few other little knick-knacks.

It's not stealing, he reasons with himself hysterically. It's reappropriating. Temporarily, at that, and for Buck's own good.

That night, he wakes to Buck stirring feverishly on his side of the bed, rolls, and turns the lamp on. Buck shudders awake with the light, blinking, almost halfway out of bed before he sees the statue and the alarm clock.

He hesitates - long enough for Eddie to slide over and wrap his arms around Buck's waist. When Buck jumps, he says quickly, "It's me, Buck. It's Eddie."

Miraculously, Buck relaxes. "Your place?" he asks tentatively. He's genuinely unsure, and that makes Eddie's gut lurch unhappily.

"Yeah."

"Your bedroom." He blinks. "The thing Chris made me at school, and my alarm clock. You?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Pause. Buck holds onto his forearms. "Real?" he asks.

"It's all real. You're in my house, in my bedroom, with me. And that's the paper mache statue Chris made you, and your alarm clock, and - well, honestly, I'm not sure what that thing is, I found it in your room. But it was near your bed."

A long pause. "And you," Buck says, no longer a question.

"And me." Eddie rests his cheek between Buck's shoulder blades. "If you still want to go sit in the bathroom for a bit, I'll go with you," he offers. The crazy thing is - he means it. It's two in the morning and freezing cold out and they're both sleeping shirtless, but he'd follow Buck in a heartbeat.

Buck turns in his arms, and his eyes look a little wet. "I don't need to," he whispers.

"Good." Eddie smiles sleepily. "I'm glad."

Buck kisses him - with more force than he ever has, maybe, his hand on the back of Eddie's neck and his tongue at the seam of Eddie's lips. Eddie's mouth opens of its own accord, and Buck's tipping him back onto the mattress and climbing on top of him, wincing a bit at the pull in his surgery site.

"Buck," Eddie says. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Buck murmurs, stretching out across Eddie's body and kissing him again, deeper this time.

Buck's got broad, strong hands and wide shoulders and impossibly warm skin, and it all weighs Eddie down until he's heady with it, flying, running his hands over Buck's back and cataloguing all the scars and bumps he finds along the way. Buck's kissing him like he'll die if he doesn't, his legs on either side of Eddie's hips. It can't be comfortable.

Eddie pulls away. "I'm gonna roll you over," he whispers, and Buck nods against him, hardly separating from him enough for Eddie to execute a careful roll, mindful that Buck's still recovering.

"I missed this so much," Buck whispers into Eddie's throat.

"Yeah, I did as well. I did." He lets a hand trail down Buck's side, caress his bad leg, until he hitches it around his waist. "You, mostly. I missed you."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you but I didn't know how. I was so scared if I did you'd - push me away. It was just easier not knowing somehow. If I didn't know, the door was still open."

"The door's always gonna be open for you, Eds," Buck whispers into his mouth.

It's not enough, Eddie realises, terrified. The last time he felt this way, he didn't recover for five years. He spent the time afraid of letting people close, afraid of letting them close to Christopher, convinced he'd done his dash with love and that there wasn't going to ever be someone who held a candle to Shannon.

Then there was Buck.

~*~

In the darkness, with the lamp switched off, he pulls Buck's sweats down carefully, gentle with the injured leg, and settles between Buck's hips.

Buck doesn't flinch, even when Eddie's hand trace the scars on his damaged leg, following them all the way up to the familiar hip joint.

Buck's got his own hands wandering Eddie's chest and sides, almost tentatively, like he's expecting that any moment Eddie might pull away from him. Eddie presses closer, to reassure him, slides his hand over Buck's lower belly and marvelling in the way the muscles there twitch.

"I want to touch you," he breathes into Buck's mouth. "Can I?"

"Please," Buck mumbles, pushing at Eddie's pants. "These off first."

He strips them off, then returns, using one hand to hold himself up while the other dips below Buck's waistband. His fingers find Buck's cock, and he wraps his hands around it, giving one long, firm stroke.

Buck looks up at him, eyes wide, mouth open as he lets out a long breath of air. He twitches to life in Eddie's grip, head falling back onto the pillow, hips and knees relaxing beyond what Eddie thought possible.

"Hermoso," Eddie whispers, and watches as Buck's chest flushes, colour crawling into his neck and face like he might have an idea what that means. He strokes again, marvelling in the way Buck lifts his hips like he wants more.

"That feels so good," Buck murmurs brokenly. "God, Eddie, keep doing that, _please_ -"

"Anything you want."

"I want to touch you too-"

"Go ahead."

He's not sure how it happens, but they both ditch their underwear and Buck takes them both in one hand, pulls up, and Eddie just about falls onto him, into him, desperate to get closer and feel more. For all the times they've kissed or had any kind of sex, it's never been like this, in a bed, with time to spare.

He licks into Buck's mouth, desperately, finds one of his hands playing with Buck's left nipple. It's gratifying, the way he can feel Buck's cock jerk against his own as he does, begins to map out of the cause and effect of all his touches. He can feel Buck's chest rising and falling rapidly against his own, sinks until they're pressed together and Buck's hand hardly has room to move.

"Fuck," Buck moans. "Eddie, I'm close."

Eddie drops his hips a little more, until Buck's forced to move his hand and their cocks slide together between their bellies. He's not expecting it when Buck's hands come up to his shoulders and he digs his short, blunt nails in, but the momentary flash of pain wakes something up inside him, and he's sucking a mark into Buck's neck as he rolls his hips.

Both of Buck's long, gorgeous legs hitch up around his waist at that moment, and Eddie pulls away to gasp, burying his face in Buck's neck and tasting the tang of his sweat and skin, feeling Buck's pulse thunder away. He reaches up to thumb a nipple again, catches sight of their dicks pressed together, leaking precome, and uses his other hand to find Buck's injured hip. Buck's hand wraps around the back of his neck, drags him in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss.

Eddie digs his thumb into the soft flesh just above Buck's hip, and Buck comes abruptly, muffling any noise he's making with Eddie's mouth. Eddies' not far behind - it's too much, Buck coming apart underneath him and smelling and looking the way he does, the way he's clinging to Eddie like he's a life-raft.

He slumps against Buck's body, his face in the same pillow Buck's head is against. They're both breathing heavily, with Eddie's shoulders still stinging a little from Buck's nails and a hickey blooming on Buck's neck.

"Jesus," Buck croaks, and Eddie giggles, maybe a little hysterically.

"Yeah. That was, uh-"

"I want to do that every day," Buck groans.

"Lucky for you," Eddie pants, his breath hot on Buck's neck, "I know a guy."

"Is the guy a super hot single dad?" Buck murmurs huskily, turning his head. "I could definitely live with that."

"I think he's available," Eddie says, and Buck smiles, a wide and disarming grin that shows all his teeth and makes Eddie's belly swoop like he hasn't just come. "Dios, Buck, that smile..."

He can't see Buck blushing in the darkness, but he can feel the way his skin heats up. Their faces are so close it would be a crime not to kiss him, so Eddie does, shuffles until he's able to press their lips together and card a hand through Buck's messy blonde hair.

He shifts, and he feels Buck twitch - not even flinch, really, but enough of a movement for Eddie to realise something is amiss. He pulls back a little, eyeing Buck's face.

"You okay?"

"Just the usual," Buck says.

"Your hip, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Stay here." Eddie eases off him carefully, mindful that any sudden movement could jar Buck's sensitive joint. "I'll get you cleaned up."

Buck doesn't move, just turns his head to watch as Eddie heads off to the bathroom to find a washcloth. Chris is mercifully still asleep, thank God, because otherwise Eddie forgetting to put anything on is inexcusable.

He returns with a wash cloth and deep heat, flicks the lamp on so he can see what he's doing. Buck is sprawled unselfconsciously across the bed, still flushed, with his arms behind his head. He smiles at Eddie when he enters.

"Dios, you'll be the death of me," Eddie mutters, pulling on his boxers before leaning over to clean Buck up.

He's worked all the way over Buck's stomach before coming to his pelvis. This is the first time he's ever seen Buck naked (and actually looked - getting him undressed for a shower after the hospital doesn't count), and he stops as he takes in the scars on Buck's leg - the way one of them runs all the way down one muscular thigh, stopping briefly at the knee before resuming again at the shin.

They're vivid pink. Fresh, new. Buck wasn't kidding when he said he'd had the accident relatively shortly before meeting Eddie.

"Um," Buck murmurs, uncomfortably, his leg twitching under Eddie's hand. "Can I - can I have my sweats?"

"Shit, sorry," Eddie says, aware suddenly that he's been staring. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just - it looks like it hurts."

A long pause. Buck chews his lip.

"It did," he admits. "Some days it was so bad I'd beg Maddie to just chop my leg off. I was seeing this girl - Ali - at the time, and she... well, she couldn't handle me being a firefighter."

"She left?" Eddie guesses.

"Yeah. I don't blame her, but..."

Eddie shakes his head. "Well, I'm not going anywhere," he says. "Buck, if this - I know your hip hurts, sometimes, but what about the rest of it?"

Buck gives him a remarkably fragile smile. "Yeah. Sometimes the rest of it is bad. But not usually. I got cleared to work again, after all."

Eddie nods, biting his lip.

"I know it's ugly," Buck offers up, suddenly. "If you don't want-"

"What?" Eddie blinks; Buck's watching him with a sense of trepidation. "No, it's not ugly. Buck, I don't care what it looks like, I just worry that you're in pain and you're not saying anything. You know you can, right? If you're in pain you can tell me."

Buck nods. "It doesn't hurt now," he offers up. "You don't think it's ugly?"

"No?" It's too soon to say he could never think any part of Buck is ugly, so he doesn't say it.

Buck smiles. "Cool."


	15. Foundations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE LAST CHAPTER TEAM <3 WE'RE GETTING ON WITH THE PLOT AND I'M REALLY ENJOYING WRITING THIS  
> also what was that last episode i've never felt so confused jfc

Eddie's nervous about submitting his application to the LAFD website.

Not because he thinks he'll fail. If he does, he'll bounce back and try again until they accept him. He's nervous because for the first time in a long time, the job he's applying for matters.

He reads it three times before he finally hits the submit button, then closes the lid of his laptop, staring at it like he's waiting for an instant notification that he's in. That, of course, doesn't happen, but it can't hurt to hope.

He pulls out his phone. Three thirty. Chris has an after-school program today, and Buck should be finishing up at the hospital soon - he's in for a regular checkup, to check the wound on his stomach is healing properly and how he's re-adjusting to his blood thinners after being off them for a bit.

Then he's coming over, and Eddie - well, Eddie's excited to say the least. He and Buck haven't been alone alone in a while. Not while Buck's been healthy, anyway.

**To: Buck, 3:32PM:** It's done.

The little bubble appears, and Eddie smiles, knowing Buck is probably out of the hospital if he's able to text back this fast.

**From: Buck, 3:32PM:** sounds pretty ominous tbh u could be talking abt murder or lafd

Eddie groans, even as he has to grin stupidly at Buck's texting. Only Buck would use the word ominous in the same sentence he shortened every other word.

**To: Buck, 3:33PM:** Are you done at the hospital?

**From: Buck, 3:33PM:** yes i am on my way :D :D

Eddie starts a late lunch, because Buck is finally starting to get his appetite back and Eddie's determined to help him regain some of the weight he lost. He's also moving a lot easier than he was, a lot sooner than expected.

It's been two weeks since Buck was released from hospital. He's unhappy about being off work (again) but happy to be alive, and they've been working on... well, whatever this relationship is. Sometimes they kiss, but it's sweet stuff, nothing like anything they've done on the couch.

Eddie's still in therapy. He goes twice a week, and it's helping, although it does sort of suck to know he's a little more screwed up than he thought he was. He knows Buck is still going, because Buck comes back from therapy quiet and withdrawn - at least for a little while.

Matt's still in a coma. Eddie hopes he dies there and doesn't even feel a little sorry for thinking it. It's the only way he knows for sure the guy won't come back to harass Buck again.

He's put soft shell tacos in the oven to warm up when there's a knock on the door.

He doesn't run to it. He doesn't. Maybe he hurries but only because it's cold out and Buck's leg gets worse in the cold and he doesn't want Buck to get sick. That's the only reason.

When he pulls the door open, Buck is already beaming, and Eddie feels weak at the knees. He's very much come to terms with being attracted to Buck because there's not really any denying it anymore, but God, that smile will end him one day.

"Hey," he says, smiling.

"Hi." Buck leans forward to kiss Eddie quickly, almost shyly.

"How was it?"

"Good. They're gonna let me back to work soon." Buck steps inside, kicking his shoes off in the doorway. He's got that God-ugly scarf on again, and when he ditches his beanie, Eddie can see that the hair on the side of his head is slowly growing back, covering the scar leftover from his tousle with Matt.

Maybe he shouldn't, but he reaches out and touches the marks and thinks about last week, when Buck awoke from a nightmare and Eddie was there and they fell into each other's orbits like there was an unknowable force between them, pulling them together.

Buck sighs, softly. He steps in a little closer and hugs Eddie, drops his face down to Eddie's shoulder, and buries his nose there. And Eddie - well, he's not pretending anymore, for himself or for anyone else. He can hold Buck for as long as he wants to, for as long as Buck will let him, and nobody will say anything about it.

"How'd your check up go?" he murmurs into Buck's neck.

"Good," Buck mumbles back. "I had physical therapy afterwards."

Eddie drops his hand to Buck's hip, massaging it gently. He can feel it's a little looser than the other - Buck's bearing his weight predominantly on his good side. "Does it hurt today?" he asks.

"A little," Buck says. "Not any more than normal though." He finally steps back, sniffing, a grin spreading over his face. "Did you make lunch?"

"I sure did," Eddie says, rolling his eyes but secretly pleased as Buck bounds into the kitchen. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of knowing Buck's hungry again.

~*~

"Can I ask you something?"

Eddie looks up from his book. Buck's shifting around nervously, going to sit up - he's been stretched out on the couch with his head in Eddie's lap, and Eddie doesn't want him to move because his hair is soft and his legs are nice and warm.

"Don't move," Eddie says gently, and runs a hand through Buck's hair, noting the way it causes his eyes to go all soft and sleepy. "What is it?"

"I uh," Buck mumbles, picking at the hem of his t-shirt, "I know that we're still, um, working out what's going on. Even after last week. Between us that is. But I - I really like having you around, and I really like having Chris around and..."

"Buck," Eddie murmurs, stroking his hair again. "C'mon, I'm not gonna be mad with you, I promise. It's okay."

Buck looks downright flustered, now, and he's blushing. "We're having a work Christmas party and I've never taken anyone to the Christmas party before and if you and Chris aren't busy would you maybe want to come?" he spits out, all in one breath.

"Whoa, whoa." Eddie smiles. "Slow down, Buck. You sound like abuela when she's mad at me."

Buck takes a deep breath. "Do you and Chris want to come to the Christmas party at the 118?" he asks shyly. "That's - that's what I was trying to get at."

If Eddie needed any indication that Buck's in this, and that he doesn't hold anything against Eddie for what happened, this is it. His throat feels a little tight, all of a sudden, with the idea that Buck has never, in twenty-six years, taken anyone to a work Christmas party, and that he's the first - that he and Chris are the first, because Buck would never forget Chris.

"You don't have to, obviously, you're probably working or busy or-"

He leans down, which is a little awkward with how far he has to bend, and kisses Buck gently. Buck makes a muffled, surprised noise against his mouth, and when Eddie pulls away - mainly because it's an awkward position to kiss in - Buck follows him up.

"Yeah," he says. "Chris and I would love to come to the Christmas party."

Buck beams.

~*~

This, of course, leaves him with a dilemma.

He really wants to get Buck something for Christmas. Something that means something, after everything, only he doesn't know what Buck will like.

So he calls Maddie.

Buck's in the shower and Maddie picks up on the second ring. "Eddie?" she demands. "Is Buck okay?"

"He's fine," Eddie chuckles. "I wanted to ask you about him though."

"Oh, okay. What's up?"

"I - he asked if Chris and I wanted to come to the Christmas party at the 118," Eddie says, ignoring Maddie's little squeal. "I just - after everything he's been through, I wanted to get him something nice, I just don't know what..."

"You guys are too cute," Maddie gushes, and Eddie grumbles a little - thirty-three is far too old to be considered cute. "Um... God, I normally just get him clothes or gift cards, he never really asks for much. He just likes spending time with people. Um... oh, he lost his watch. When Matt..."

He hears her swallow, doesn't need her to finish. "A watch," he says. "Got it. Thanks."

"Eddie, wait," Maddie says.

"Yeah?"

"What do I tell him to get you when he asks me?" Maddie demands. "Because you know he's going to, right? He's all about the grand gestures."

Eddie thinks. He hasn't wanted anything for himself in such a long time, he's not even sure what he'd ask for in the end.

"I'll let you know," he says honestly. "I'm just not sure yet. It's been a while since anyone asked."

"You better, Eddie," Maddie says warmly. "We'll see you at the Christmas party."

Maddie hasn't said anything to him about breaking Buck's heart, which leads Eddie to think that Buck has told her two things - that they've made up and they're trying again, slower this time, and to lay off. He appreciates it, but can't help but feel like there's an epic reaming hanging over his head.

"Are you having a stroke?"

He looks up. Buck's standing in the hallway, wearing only a pair of sweats, rubbing a towel over his head. He nods at Eddie's phone. "You've been staring at that for ages, man," he says.

"That was before the view improved," Eddie says, and Buck smirks at him, almost puffing his chest out. It's funny, really - tell Buck he's a good person worth loving, and he gets all shifty and uncomfortable, but tell him he's hot and he fluffs up like a peacock. He knows he's good looking, Eddie guesses, and that he puts work into his body.

"What view?" Buck asks, innocently, walking forward a little. He drops his towel in the hallway, and Eddie's knee-jerk reaction is to tell him to pick it up before Buck's in his space, ducking his head to give him a quick kiss. Despite the swagger and the tone of voice, the kiss gives away how nervous Buck is feeling.

Eddie's a little glad he's not alone in that.

He pulls Buck closer by the back of his neck, keen to continue the kiss. Buck melts into his space, then, holding the side of Eddie's neck and walking him backwards until his back hits the wall and he gives Buck's full lower lip a little nibble.

Buck smiles against him, pulls away to look at him. He bites his lip in the same place Eddie did and it drives Eddie fucking crazy, seeing Buck do it so innocently and knowing that Buck knows exactly what it's doing to him.

Buck moves in closer, crowds him against the wall, one hand next to Eddie's head and the other on his waist. He ducks a little, until they're the same height and his gorgeous, broad shoulders are well within Eddie's reach. His hand creeps up to Eddie's face, cups his cheek.

He's never been held like he's invaluable before.

Buck kisses him, so softly it's like he's trying to be careful, and Eddie returns the favour, his hands wandering to Buck's chest, feeling the soft skin and the rise and fall of his ribs under Eddie's palm. This time, when his fingers begin to probe curiously at the scars on Buck's torso - categorising, learning - Buck doesn't twitch away from him.

He lets his fingers skate down Buck's sides. He's still bruised up in places, and Eddie's careful not to press or linger where he might cause pain. He skirts to Buck's lower back, using both hands and digging his fingertips lightly into the dimples at the base of Buck's spine.

Buck breaks the kiss abruptly, leaning his forehead on Eddie's and licking his lips. He's panting, which - Dios, he has no right to make panting so attractive - and his lips are kissed red, skin flushed.

"What's wrong?" Eddie whispers. He remembers, vaguely, that Buck liked being touched here all those months ago when they first kissed - the fake making out when Shannon was watching - but he didn't react like this. Was he hiding it at the time?

Buck licks his lips, opens his eyes. They're piercingly blue, especially this close to Eddie's own. "If you don't want this to go any further, you should stop," Buck croaks.

Eddie digs his fingers in, just a little, and Buck outright moans. The sound reverberates through the hallway and Eddie's cock is heavy in his jeans - God, what Buck does to him...

"I don't want to stop," Eddie whispers. He wants to look at Buck properly and Buck's got his face in Eddie's neck now and Eddie moves one hand, feeling a hot, damp puff off air against his pulse point before he threads his fingers through Buck's damp hair and pulls a little to get him away, so that he can look-

And Buck promptly falls to his knees, right there in the hallway, hands on Eddie's hips, looking up at him desperately.

"Santa mierda, no te puedo creer," Eddie gasps.

"Whatever," Buck mumbles, working his belt open.

"It was the hair, wasn't it?" Eddie pants. Buck's got his belt open and pants down and Eddie can feel his breath on his dick. "You like it when I pull your hair-"

"We can talk about my kinks later," Buck says, and he's freed Eddie from his boxers and taken the head of his dick into his mouth.

"Fuck," Eddie says, relying on the wall and Buck's hands on his hips to hold him upright. "Buck, Dios, you don't have to-"

Buck looks up at him through his lashes, an expression that so clearly says _but I want to_ that Eddie's head spins, and he's powerless to do anything except lean back and moan when Buck swallows him down fully.

It's been literal years since he's gotten head from anyone, let alone someone as apparently talented as Buck. Now he's in his hallway with Buck on his knees all because Eddie pulled his hair, and he's fairly sure this isn't taking things slow but-

"Buck," he groans, moving his hips forward a little. "God, Buck, por favour..."

Buck makes a sound that sounds suspiciously like a whimper and his throat and mouth vibrate around Eddie's dick and Eddie's cursing, puts both hands on Buck's hair for lack of anything else to do with them and pulls lightly. There's that noise again, and there's heat coiling at the base of his spine, and he's never wanted so badly for anything before.

"Tan bueno, cariño," Eddie moans, and one of Buck's hands creeps up until it's resting on Eddie's hip, and Eddie grabs it, laces their fingers together. Apparently, Buck has at least an idea of what he's saying, because he bobs his head a little more enthusiastically, clearly aiming to bring Eddie to the finish line. His tongue swirls delicately around the tip, tongue poking a little, gently, and Eddie's breathing so hard he's seeing stars.

"Voy a venirme," Eddie warns in a gasp. He pulls Buck's hair and Buck gasps and his hand clenches around Eddie's, and Eddie says, just before it happens, "Buck I'm gonna come-"

Buck makes a low humming sound, one Eddie thinks might've been a cry if his mouth hadn't been full of Eddie's cock, and the vibrations send him over the edge. He comes down Buck's throat and Buck swallows without flinching, letting Eddie ride it out until he's spent.

Finally, he lets Eddie slip from his mouth and leans his head against Eddie's hip, almost nuzzling, panting. They stay like that for a moment, with Eddie weak-kneed and still sort of seeing stars and unable to believe that just pulling Buck's hair was enough to send him to his knees.

He comes back to himself a little, then, thinks of Buck's leg against the hardwood floors and leans down to help him up. Sure enough, Buck winces, though he looks happy when he sees Eddie's expression.

"Good?" he asks hopefully. When he presses in, Eddie can feel how hard he is - apparently, Buck didn't come.

"Couch," Eddie murmurs, and Buck allows himself to be bullied into the living room, onto the couch. He lies back and Eddie muscles in between his legs, pulls until they're both draped over his hips, and leans down to kiss him.

"Eddie, you're gonna kill me," Buck moans. He's still panting. "You don't have to-"

"Shut up," Eddie says, working his hand into Buck's sweats. He gets a real thrill when he realises Buck isn't wearing boxers. "I'm gonna make you feel good."

"I didn't do it so you'd-"

Eddie digs a thumb into Buck's hip and Buck rocks up against him, forcing Eddie to push him down - Eddie's beginning to think Buck's got a thing for being manhandled, because his eyes go all foggy and fucked-out and his cock blurts precome into Eddie's hand.

"You were so good to me," Eddie mumbles, leaning in to kiss the column of Buck's throat. "So good. Let me do the same for you." He twists his hand, and Buck groans, lifts his hips again until Eddie forces him back against the couch.

"You like it when I do that," Eddie marvels, eyeing the flush in Buck's cheek. "And pull your hair."

Buck nods, mouth open and red, hands coming up to Eddie's face as he drags him into a kiss. Eddie keeps his hand moving, steadily, until Buck's breathing like a racehorse and saying, "Eddie please, please-" against his mouth.

Eddie kisses him deeper, his tongue tangling with Buck's in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, and he speeds up just enough and swallows Buck's cry as he jerks in Eddie's grasp and comes, streaking his chest and Eddie's hand with it. All the while, Eddie presses him down, determined to make this as good for Buck as it was for him.

Finally, Buck slumps, eyes closed, panting. Eddie makes himself at home on Buck's chest, even if it is a little gross, because he wants to feel Buck's heart rate return to normal.

Buck throws an arm around his shoulders and turns his head into the space between Eddie's head and neck. Eddie begins a trail of soft, clumsy kisses on Buck's jaw, sensing that Buck is absolutely gone and likely not coming back for a few minutes.

"Fue bueno?" Eddie murmurs into Buck's skin.

Buck nods. He's downright clinging now. He turns his head, kisses Eddie gently, and blinks his eyes open. He looks - sated, and happy, and Eddie caused both of those things.

"I'm really glad you're coming to the Christmas party," Buck whispers, smiling.

"So am I." Eddie kisses him once more, then begins to sit up awkwardly. "Stay here. I'll get something to clean you up."

"I need another shower," Buck laughs, a little breathlessly.

"Yeah, now I need one too. C'mon." Eddie helps Buck off the couch, a little concerned when he limps. "Not good for your leg, huh?"

"Worth it," Buck says smugly, and Eddie laughs.

~*~

By the time it's time to pick Chris up, they're both showered and decently okay with having their hands off each other.

Chris is delighted to see Buck when they enter the school - so delighted, in fact, he drags Buck over to introduce to his favourite teacher and says, "This is Daddy's boyfriend!"

"Chris," Eddie groans, as Buck laughs and blushes and greets the teacher with all his usual Buck charm. They haven't really put a label on - well, whatever this is; that's a decision they're both okay with, for now.

Then again, they're going to Buck's work's Christmas party and Buck is helping him pick up Christopher and he just sucked Eddie off against a wall, so. Maybe Eddie isn't the authority on whatever this is.

"It's nice to meet you," Buck's saying to Miss Kativah.

"You must be Buck!" She's glowing. "Chris talks about you all the time."

"He does?" Buck looks so damn pleased Eddie could cry.

"Oh, yeah," she laughs. "I've never seen him so happy. Apparently you're to thank for the volcano science experiment he brought in two months ago?"

"Yeah, uh, that was me." Buck rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry about the mess."

"It was fantastic," she laughs. "It's good to know Chris has two people so dedicated to him."

Eddie - well, Eddie doesn't know what to make of this conversation, so he hoists Chris up into his arms, thanks Miss Kativah for running Chris's after-school program, and they take their leave. Chris giggles the whole way back to the car, and Eddie's fairly sure if he turns around he'll see Buck making faces at them.

"Hey, buddy, guess what?" he asks, as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.

"What?"

"Buck's invited us to go to his Christmas party at the firehouse."

"Really?" Chris's eyes are all lit up. "Will Chimney and Hen and Bobby be there? What about Maddie?"

"How do you know my sister?" Buck teases.

"She helped me get candy from the hospital vending machine," Chris says, then puts both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. "But I wasn't supposed to tell Daddy that..."

"She used to do that for me too," Buck says, turning to speak to Chris. He's smiling, though it looks a little sad around the edges. "When I'd go visit my mom in hospital. She made sure she had a dollar so I could eat something while we were there."

Is this why he doesn't hear much about Buck's parents?

"She said you used to get sad when the peanut M&M's were stale," Chris giggles, apparently not picking up on the same thread in the conversation as Eddie did.

"I can't believe she told on me," Buck gasps dramatically. "Yeah, I did. I still get sad about it."

"I'll give you all the good ones, Bucky," Chris says, smiling.

"Thank you, Christopher," Buck says, his smile and voice taking on that soft lilt he reserves purely for Chris.

They chatter a little on the way home, and when they get there, Buck is out of the car and unstrapping Chris almost immediately. Chris wriggles into Buck's arms, apparently content to be carried. He's been wanting it less, lately, and if Eddie could, he'd carry the kid forever.

"Hey, Buck?" Chris asks, as they head inside.

"Yeah?"

"Where's your mom now?"

Buck sets him down inside, his smile sad and head a little bowed. "She died, buddy," he says quietly.

"Died?"

Chris has never encountered death before. Eddie's family is blessed with strong genetics and long lifespans; his eldest relative is ninety and still going strong. Chris is totally unfamiliar with the concept of death, and Eddie has been content with it being that way for the most part.

Buck looks at Eddie helplessly. He seems unsure of whether or not to explain.

Eddie joins them on the floor. "You know how sometimes people get sick and they're in hospital?" he asks softly.

"Like Buck was?" Chris asks.

Eddie swallows. "Yeah. Like Buck was. Well... sometimes they don't get better and their bodies get tired so their souls leave and go up to heaven."

A long pause. "So they can't talk to us anymore?"

"Exactly," Eddie says.

Chris ponders that for a moment. Then, "I'm sorry your mommy had to go to heaven, Buck."

If Eddie looks close enough, he can see that Buck's eyes are just a little wet. "Thanks, Chris," he says, and sweeps Christopher into a hug. "That's really sweet of you to say."

"Was she nice?"

"Yeah, she was really nice."

So Buck's household might not have been terrible his whole life, Eddie muses. It sounds like at one point, he had at least one parent who loved him enough for him to say she was nice, years on.

"Like you," Chris says cheerfully. "You're really nice. Even when Daddy was mean you were still nice."

"Well, Daddy said sorry for that," Buck says, smiling. "Saying sorry when you've hurt someone is a nice thing to do."

Chris tilts his head. "Liam's daddy doesn't say sorry to him."

Both Buck and Eddie freeze at that, staring at Chris. Eddie remembers Liam - a sweet, quiet kid - holding his hand at the museum, talking about how his parents fought. Eddie had figured he was down because of that.

"Uh," Buck says. "What - what do you mean, pal?"

"He said sometimes his daddy hits him," Chris says, with the tone of voice of a child who doesn't understand the significance of what they're saying. "But only when he's bad. And he doesn't say sorry or anything."

"Well, um," Eddie says, seeing that Buck has entirely run out of things to say. "Hitting isn't... isn't nice either."

Chris bites his lip. "You wouldn't hit me, right, Daddy?" he asks, hesitantly. "Buck?"

"God, mijo, no," Eddie breathes, pulling Chris to sit on his lap. "I would never, ever hurt you. Neither would Buck. We love you. We wouldn't hurt you."

Chris seems reassured by that, at least, and announces quickly after that he's going to do his homework so he can hang out with "his Buck" after dinner. Eddie gets to his feet, helps Buck up, and they both head into the kitchen.

For a while, it's quiet. Then Buck says, "What do we do?"

Eddie rubs his face. "I don't know."

"Eddie, if... if this kid is really getting belted, we should tell Athena, or someone," Buck says uneasily. "We can't just let it go."

"I know." Eddie rubs his face. "I know, look, let's... I'll call his mom-"

"No," Buck says quickly. "Don't do that."

"Buck-"

"Eddie, trust me, when you call their parents first without having some sort of plan in place, the kid is the one who cops it," Buck says. "If she doesn't know, she'll confront him and make it worse, and if she does know - well, either way things get worse for him."

Eddie nods. He won't push to figure out what, exactly, would lead Buck to know that with such certainty - he doesn't feel ready to yet. "Okay," he says quietly. "How about I talk to a teacher, and in the meantime - let's just get him out of that house. Chris has been begging for a sleepover anyway."

Buck nods, and he starts on dinner. Eddie watches him for a moment.

"Do you think he'll tell us anything?" he asks, trying to be gentle.

"Maybe." Buck's voice is subdued. "I doubt it though."

Buck stays the night that night.

~*~

Two days later, on the thirteenth of December, Buck picks both kids up from school.

Eddie's working in the garage until five, and Buck's not cleared for work until after Christmas sometime, so it works out well. Before they leave the parking lot, Buck sends him a selfie - Liam and Chris are in the back, beaming, and Buck's head is tilted to fit into the frame.

God, he's got a pretty smile. Eddie's stomach does a few flips.

**From: Buck, 3:17PM:** two kiddos on board excited to make sugar cookies

**To: Buck, 3:19PM:** Save some for me!

Buck texts back two kissing emojis, and Eddie puts his phone away, peaceful with the knowledge that when he finishes work, he'll be going home to two excited kids and Buck.

He's not exactly sure when Buck started making that list, but God, Eddie never wants him off it.

~*~

The house, predictably, is chaos when he steps inside.

It's chaos, but it smells good, and Buck's laughing and so are both Liam and Chris. Chris is on the counter, stirring a bowl of icing clumsily, and Liam is stamping shapes into dough.

"Hi," Buck grins when Eddie enters. He's got icing sugar on his cheek, somehow, and Eddie leans over, kisses it off.

"Ew, Daddy," Chris complains.

"Hey, hey, you're the one who said we should keep him," Eddie teases, kissing Chris's cheek too. "Hi, Liam."

"Hi, Mr. Diaz," Liam says, smiling. He's visibly not as happy as either Chris or Buck, but he looks a lot happier than he has in a while. Eddie wonders how long something has been amiss - everything seemed fine at the birthday party, but that was... God, months ago now.

"Is Buck making you guys work too hard?"

"We're doing all the work, Daddy," Chris giggles.

"Chris, man!" Buck's mouth gapes, comically wide. "I thought we were friends!"

The kids both laugh, and Eddie is endlessly grateful for Buck and how genuinely good he is with them, and how clear it is that he loves Chris.

"So," Eddie says, after Chris and Liam are both in the living room with the first batch of cookies, "what's actually for dinner?"

"Pizza, because I forgot to buy anything else at the grocery store," Buck admits, and Eddie laughs and kisses him. "Hmm, you've been doing that a lot lately..."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Buck whines, clinging to Eddie with such false desperation he has to laugh again.

"I'll order pizza."

"Good idea," Buck says, scooping some dough up to eat. "Otherwise I'll eat the entire next batch."

~*~

They eat pizza on the couch, which Eddie doesn't normally allow. Chris has very much claimed Buck for the night - the novelty of having him around after not having him for a while hasn't worn off yet - and Eddie's surprised to find Liam sidling up to him.

Liam's different from most kids. Naturally shyer, Eddie finds, and much less likely to ask for affection. Still, he burrows into Eddie's side once he realises Eddie won't tell him off for it, and he actually relaxes there.

Eddie meets Buck's eyes over both of them, finds Buck smiling at him sadly. He's not sure Liam will tell them anything tonight, but he needs Liam to know he's safe here with them. That he can if he wants to.

Liam and Chris head off to play together in Chris's room after a while, and Buck shuffles closer to Eddie, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He smiles.

"Sorry about the mess in the kitchen."

"Don't worry about it," Eddie yawns. "We'll clean up tomorrow."

"Tired, old man?" Buck teases.

"Some of us aren't part golden retriever, Buck," he says, and Buck grins wider and kisses him gently, sweetly.

When bedtime comes, Buck helps get both Liam and Chris situated in Chris's room, reading them a story with both of them huddled up to him. Eddie watches, occasionally providing comical voices when requested by Chris, and hugs them both goodnight.

"If you need anything, wake us up," he tells Liam quietly.

"I will, Mr. Diaz. Thank you."

They exit the room, leaving it open a crack. Buck sighs as he steps away, smiling at Eddie in a way that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Well," he murmurs, "they're knocked out. I should probably get going."

They've tried something new. A two-night rule, Eddie calls it, since Buck recovered from surgery properly. Buck sleeps over two nights a week, or Eddie sleeps at his on the odd occasion that Chris is with abuela or Pepa, but they don't exceed that.

(It's an effort to take things slow, but Jesus, Buck has had Eddie's dick in his mouth and Eddie is fairly certain that their sleeping habits are no longer preventing them from getting handsy at every opportunity.)

"Stay?" Eddie asks softly.

Buck looks at him longingly. "It's... I've already..."

"I don't care. Screw the rules. I want you to stay, Buck. I know you wanna stay as well."

Buck's face is lit up with a happy little smile. "If I stay, what's in it for me?"

"G-related things," Eddie says, "like sugar cookies and beer."

"I think beer verges into P.G, Eds," Buck says seriously, and Eddie laughs.

~*~

When he wakes, it's to the central heating kicking on.

He groans, shivering, and blinks his eyes open. His living room swims into focus, slowly - he's forgotten to close the curtains and there's light shining through them.

His pillow moves, and Eddie starts - until he realises that he's been cushioned by Buck's body. The other man is lying on his back, with Eddie nestled in between his legs. His arms are curled protectively around Eddie's shoulder and waist, nose at Eddie's temple.

God, Buck makes a good pillow. He must have fallen asleep on Buck's chest. He's not even a little mad, not even when he tries to get up and Buck goes octopus mode on him and clings to him desperately.

"Come on," Eddie whispers, brushing a hand through Buck's hair. "Bed."

Buck makes a low mumbling noise, blinks his eyes open blearily. "S'wrong with the couch?" he says thickly.

Eddie almost laughs, but he doesn't want to wake the kids up. "Your leg is gonna hurt," he murmurs, rubbing Buck's shoulder until Buck is melting agreeably into his touch.

"I can handle my leg hurting." Buck seems like he's settling again. "It's not that bad."

"I don't want you to ever be in pain," Eddie whispers back, and Buck's eyes open fully at the raw edge Eddie's voice has taken on. Neither of them were expecting that, clearly, and Eddie watches as Buck's throat bobs.

"Okay," he whispers back.

He levers off the couch and pulls Buck with him, gently. Buck hisses a little as his leg is forced to move - stiffness, mostly, he claims, from the cold - but Eddie can reassess in the morning and maybe get some deep heat on it to get him through the day.

"What woke you up?" Buck asks sleepily as they settle into Eddie's bed.

"Not sure," Eddie admits. "Maybe the cold."

Buck sighs - a heavy, deep sound that seems like it's penetrating every part of his lungs in the process - and rolls, manhandling Eddie to his chest and tossing his bad leg over Eddie's hips.

Eddie's never, ever been held like this before, by someone bigger than him. His head is under Buck's chin, and he feels so impossibly safe it's ridiculous - he can't even see the doorway over Buck's shoulder. It's a little odd when he's normally the one doing the cuddling, but...

Well, he can't deny it's nice.

He gets his arms around Buck's torso, and Buck sighs again, happily, pulling him in closer. Eddie could probably live with being Buck's personal teddy bear for the rest of his life, he muses.

"Night, Eds," Buck yawns.

"Goodnight, Buck," he murmurs back.

~*~

The door creaks open at around seven the next morning.

They've changed positions; Buck is spooning Eddie now, soundly asleep. His fingers twitch a little at Eddie's waist with the door opening, but he doesn't wake.

"Morning, Daddy," Christopher's voice whispers.

"Good morning, pal," Eddie says sleepily, moving to haul Christopher up onto the bed. He cuddles him in close, smiling as Chris sinks into him, a ball of fluffy dressing gown and - predictably, Chompy and Dragon, who go everywhere with him.

Chris leans up on Eddie's body and peers over him. "Buck's lazy," he whispers.

"What'd you say, punk?" Buck's voice croaks.

"Nothing," Chris giggles, and Buck rolls onto his back. Eddie feels him tense - it's gotta be his leg, but Eddie still worries a little.

"I slaved away making those cookies," Buck says, dragging Chris over Eddie so that he's between them, "and you guys are calling me lazy."

Eddie loves that Buck doesn't care about being woken up at seven in the morning - on a Saturday, at that - because his kid is an early riser and wants to chat. He loves that Buck doesn't mind Chris crawling into bed with them.

Eddie rolls out of bed. "I'm gonna go get the deep heat," he says.

"Eds-" Buck protests.

"I'll be back, querido," he says gently, and Buck blushes a little.

When he exits the bedroom and pads down the hallway, he spots Liam sitting in the living room quietly, head in one of Christopher's books. Curious, Eddie enters, saying, "Hey, bud."

Liam jumps. "Good morning, Mr. Diaz," he mumbles.

"Chris didn't say you were up."

Liam shrugs, and Eddie settles down next to him. "What're we reading?"

Liam shows him. It's an illustrated version of Matilda, the girl who found family when her own didn't accept her. Eddie's heart sinks right into his stomach. God, this poor kid.

"Were you getting Mr. Buck's medicine?" Liam asks quietly.

Eddie has to smile at anyone referring to Buck as "Mr. Buck" or even "Mr. Buckley" which is technically right but sounds horribly wrong. "His medicine?"

"Chris said he got hurt and has to take medicine to make his blood do what it's supposed to," Liam says, blinking.

"Oh. No, he's okay. He doesn't need that right now." Eddie leans in, pulling himself up on the couch properly. He's sure Buck won't mind him taking a detour for this. "How about we read some of Matilda together?" he asks kindly. "It's one of my favourites too."

"Okay," Liam replies, and he finally smiles and Eddie knows he made the right call.

~*~

"He called you Mr. Buck," Eddie says.

"Stop," Buck moans dramatically. "I'm too young to have an official title."

They've just dropped Liam off at home, and while his mom greeted him kindly, Liam had been reluctant to go. They'd left with firm enough plans for another sleepover - something that eases a knot in Eddie's chest, somehow, even as they drive away.

"Whatever," Eddie says, grinning. "We're all gonna call you Mr. Buck from now on."

"I'd rather you called me Evan," Buck mutters, but there's a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

They're pulling into the driveway again when Eddie's phone pings with an email. He pulls it out of his pocket before climbing out of the car, heart leaping into his throat when he sees it's from the LAFD application portal.

This is either about to be a great day or the worst.

Buck's beginning to climb out of the car and get Christopher out, and Eddie follows idly, clicking the email open as he does.

"What're you looking at?" Buck asks curiously.

Eddie grins, holding up his phone. "The LAFD accepted my online application," he says. "They're going to set me up with an interview-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence; Buck tackles him in a hug, almost lifting him off the ground with the force, and Christopher joins in somewhere near his legs. They're both whooping for him, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie feels weightless.

"I told you," Buck says, kissing his face several times. "I told you, Eds. I'm so damn proud of you."

"Are you gonna work with Bucky now?" Christopher asks.

Eddie swings Chris up into his arms and holds him, grinning. Buck's arms wrap around them both. "That's the plan, buddy," he says, kissing Chris's head. "That's the plan."


	16. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this week has been wild y'all. i got twitter, i got scared of twitter, i ventured back onto twitter and discovered that there's actual FANART of this fic and that people openly DISCUSS it and look forward to it and???  
> i love you guys okay T_T
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

"Okay, buddy, I need your help."

They're in the mall. There's a fake Santa with kids on his knee in the middle, and Chris is looking around, amazed by all the lights. It's Sunday, the day after Liam had slept over, and he's shopping for Buck's Christmas present.

He hasn't bought a Christmas present for a partner in years, and the last time he did, he was able to get fine jewellery or lingerie or - well, he doesn't remember the last Christmas present he got Shannon, honestly. He's nervous about getting one for Buck, even though he suspects Buck would like anything he got given.

"What with, Dad?" Chris asks.

"I need to get Buck a Christmas present," he says. "And I really want it to be a good one, because Buck's made our lives a lot better and he's done a lot for us, right? It's important to get him something that shows we love him."

"Okay," Chris says cheerfully. Then, "Dad, can I get Bucky something too?"

Chris really loves Buck, Eddie realises. His little face is determined, like he thinks Eddie might say no. "I saved up all my allowance," he adds, "so I could get something good."

Eddie pulls him in for a hug, smiling. "Kiddo," he says, "you don't have to spend your allowance, yeah? We'll find something good for both of us to give him."

"Let's do it," Chris grins, and hops off the bench to get started.

~*~

The next day brings work - Eddie restores a few cars but mostly daydreams about the fire academy - and Chris is going to abuela's for a sleepover after school.

That leaves Eddie with one task - to find all the Christmas decorations he has hidden away. He's just getting down to it when his phone rings.

It's his father. Something curls unpleasantly in his stomach - his father loves him, and he knows that; he didn't have a perfect childhood but he was loved and never abused, unlike Buck. Still, as he's gotten older their relationship has become more and more contentious. More than once, his father has tried to force him to move back to Texas with Chris; there's been many insinuations that he should get back with Shannon.

He takes a deep breath and answers. "Hola, Papá," he murmurs.

"Hello, son." Ramon sounds warm. "It's rare to get you on the phone these days."

"I know," Eddie says guiltily. "Just... Chris and work and everything else, it's hard to be able to answer sometimes."

"I understand. How is Christopher?"

"He's great. He's in this amazing school that really seems to know how to push him to his strengths - he's not getting picked on anymore either." Eddie glows just thinking about Chris thoughtfully picking out Buck's Christmas present yesterday. "Buck's got him into baking."

There's a long pause. Then, "Buck?"

"Yeah. They've been doing baking whenever Buck picks him up from school. I think they're trying to make me fat, but hey, I'm not gonna argue." Eddie's mind drifts for a moment; he's sure Buck is home today. Maybe he can go around when he's finished here.

"I see." Ramon's voice is tight, which Eddie suddenly picks up on. "We thought you were... moving on from that man."

"Don't say "that man" like it tastes bad in your mouth," Eddie says. "His name is Buck, and I'm not moving on from him, Papá. If you met him-"

"Edmundo, this..." His father sighs. "This is ridiculous, son. A good looking man like yourself should be able to find a woman easily, but you're dating another man - whatever that means."

"It's not ridiculous," Eddie says quietly. He learned a long time ago that firing up at his father only ended one way - in stone cold silence and his mother's tears. "Dad, Buck treats me - and Christopher - really well. We're lucky to have him."

"Eddie, this... you can't possibly want this," Ramon argues. "Shannon is still fighting for you-"

"I don't want Shannon," Eddie says. He's beginning to feel angry, now, which is never a good sign. "Dad, Shannon and I are done. We have been for a long time. It's time to let that go."

"You need to think about what's best for Christopher, Eddie-"

"I know what's best for Christopher," Eddie replies heatedly. "I'm his father. And Shannon isn't the best for him - so far, the person who's stepped up to take care of him the most is Buck. If you can't accept that, Dad - well, I'm sorry. But you can't change my mind."

"Eddie, he's young," his father replies, with a pleading note in his voice. "Twenty six, you said? He'll grow tired, son. Shannon might be Chris's mother, but she had him young as well, and she left. You need someone your own age-"

"No, Dad, I really don't," Eddie says shortly. "When you and Mom decide on Christmas plans, call me again. But I'm not discussing Buck with you anymore."

He hangs up, and sits in the mess of his garage for a long time.

~*~

It's five in the afternoon by the time he gets round to Buck's.

The call with his father has left a sour taste in his mouth. There were reservations about Buck, initially, from his family, but he thought they'd passed with time - with Eddie proving it was real.

Apparently not.

He ruminates over it to extremes on the way to Buck's, especially the part about Buck being younger than him by quite a margin and what he might want. It's something Eddie hadn't considered before - but maybe his father is right. Maybe Buck should be out doing what normal twenty-six year olds are doing, and partying on weekends instead of playing house with a kid and his father.

By the time he knocks on Buck's front door, he's feeling pretty miserable.

It takes a few moments - long enough that he considers leaving - but he hears shuffling inside, and then the chain moving.

The door opens, and Buck's standing there, in baggy sweats and a white t-shirt and pillow creases on his face, looking dazed and sleepy. His hair is curling wildly around his head. Clearly, he'd been sleeping - at five in the afternoon, which is sort of worrying.

But his face splits into a soft, sleepy smile when he sees Eddie there, and he immediately steps up for a kiss - takes Eddie's face in both hands and kisses him so sweetly Eddie forgets, momentarily, the conversation with his father - and then pulls him into a hug.

"I didn't know you were coming," he mumbles happily.

"Kind of a last minute decision." Eddie sinks into the hug; Buck's pleasantly warmer than usual, and he smells like soap and whatever laundry detergent he uses and faintly of aftershave. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah." Buck rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "I was watching a movie... guess I fell asleep." His eyes rove Eddie's face, and his mouth turns down in concern. "Are you?"

"Just had a phone call with my dad," Eddie sighs. "Never much fun."

Buck opens the door wider, and Eddie enters, relieved that Buck seems to genuinely want his company now that he's here. He hasn't been to Buck's as often as Buck has been to his house, and he takes it in with brand new eyes every time.

The couch is pulled out into a bed, and there's a duvet tossed across it. It's rumpled, like Buck was just in it, and Eddie snorts.

"No wonder you fell asleep."

"Hey, they said I needed to rest up," Buck whines exaggeratedly. "I was just following orders."

"Uh huh," Eddie says, smiling.

"So, your dad?" Buck prompts.

"Yeah. He's just... back on his particular brand of bullshit."

"Which is?" Buck's headed to the fridge; Eddie follows like a puppy.

"Thinking he knows what's best for Christopher," he mutters. "Which in this case is that getting back with Shannon is a great idea that won't possibly come with any bad side effects, even though he knows I don't want to be with her."

Buck eyes him curiously. "Does he know about us?"

Eddie chews his lip. "Yeah," he hedges.

"And he's not happy, I'm guessing?" Buck pushes a glass of juice towards him. Eddie drinks fairly mindlessly.

"No," he mutters.

Buck shrugs. "I'm the first guy you've dated, right?" he asks. "It's kind of an adjustment for them sometimes. It... takes time. Sucks for sure, but it takes time, and he loves you, right?"

"I know he loves me," Eddie sighs, rubbing his face. "Just... how much time is he gonna need? And he was saying all this other stuff about-"

He doesn't finish the sentence. He hadn't even realised that his father's doubts about Buck had crept into his own thoughts until now, when he's looking at Buck in the light from the window and he's young and gorgeous and perfectly capable of finding someone without Eddie's baggage.

"About?" Buck prompts. He's definitely picked up on Eddie's tone - God, Eddie can't hide anything from the guy. He's like a sniffer dog for feelings.

Eddie rubs his face again, slumping against the counter. "He said you're young and that you'll get tired of it," he admits. "Of me and Chris that is."

"Well I won't," Buck says indignantly.

"Buck-"

"Eddie," Buck says patiently, "you were nervous about me meeting Chris, right? Well, I was nervous as well. I kinda knew what it meant to be introduced, you know? What I mean is - I thought about it, man. I didn't just rush into it. I've thought about it. I've made my decision."

"If you want to - if you want to, I don't know, go partying-"

Buck sighs, stepping into his space and wrapping him in a full bodied hug. "Stop talking like you're an old man and I'm a teenager," Buck murmurs into his neck. "Eddie, you're not a ball and chain to me - neither is Chris. I'm exactly where I want to be."

Eddie believes him, finally, wraps his arms around Buck and rubs his spine until Buck has melted against his body affectionately. "Does it bother you that I'm thirty three?" Eddie asks sheepishly.

"Does it bother you that I'm twenty-six?" Buck replies, almost sleepily.

"No," Eddie murmurs.

"There's your answer." Buck yawns into his shoulder. "You're putting me to sleep, man."

Eddie grins. "Sorry."

"Are not," Buck mumbles, standing straight and leading Eddie to the couch-bed. "C'mon, I was watching Love Is Blind."

"God, Buck, you're gonna rot your brain..."

"My brain feels fine," Buck protests, snuggling up to Eddie once he's kicked his shoes off and joined him on the couch. "Eds?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you came over."

"Yeah," Eddie says, letting Buck curl into him like an overgrown cat. "I am too."

~*~

He must doze off. When he wakes, Buck's head is on his shoulder and he has the worst pins and needles he's ever felt.

"God," he groans; he pushes at Buck's shoulder lightly. "Off. You're heavy."

Buck twitches, but doesn't move away. If anything, he hunches closer, and Eddie can see that his face is pulled tight into a frown.

He feels instantly guilty - Buck is having a nightmare, and is obviously clinging to him for comfort. Eddie murmurs his name, more gently this time, and shakes his shoulder hesitantly; Buck startles awake with a gasp.

"Easy, Buck," Eddie says quickly. "It's just me, querido."

Buck's whole body contracts like he's about to sit up, but he forces his eyes to Eddie's and holds his gaze for a moment. After that, he seems to settle a little; he goes limp, licks his lips, and moves off Eddie's arm.

Before he can get away, Eddie rolls to hug him. "Just a nightmare," he comforts.

"Yeah," Buck croaks, although he doesn't sound sure. "We... fell asleep?"

"Watching Love Is Blind," Eddie reminds him. Buck's doing some grounding, evidently.

Buck's silent for a moment. Eddie can feel him trembling faintly.

"Buck," he says, putting a hand on Buck's shoulder. "It was a nightmare-"

He falls silent. Buck flinched when Eddie touched him - imperceptibly, almost, except Eddie is a master at reading minute movement from a long, bloody career in the military. And that - that was definitely a flinch.

"Buck," he says quietly. "Tell me where you are."

There's a long, almost unbearable silence. Buck doesn't move, and Eddie doesn't try to touch him again.

"Buck," he murmurs, keeping his voice soft and low. He doesn't know exactly what Buck went through with Matt, only that it was almost a full day before anyone was able to track him down, and Buck hasn't divulged anything.

"Living room," Buck says uncertainly. He doesn't sound overtly distressed, though Eddie can read an undercurrent of confusion there - he genuinely doesn't seem to know. The nightmare must have been vivid, or realistic - or both, Eddie realises with a lurch.

"Whose?"

Pause. "Mine."

"With who?" The questions seem to be helping; Buck's answering quicker.

"Just you. Uh - yeah, just you. Eddie."

"That's it," Eddie says soothingly. "What were we doing?"

"Watching Love Is Blind," Buck replies. "God, I'm sorry, Eds, I just... they're not really nightmares, you know?"

"More like memories?" Eddie asks gently, and Buck nods. He rolls back over, though, to look at Eddie - it's only seven thirty, but it's already pitch black outside. Eddie hates the winter.

"Thanks for waking me up," Buck says. "Want dinner?"

"Mm, are you cooking?"

"Sure am. Stir fry sound okay?"

"It sounds great," Eddie murmurs, accepting Buck's little kiss as he swings himself over Eddie and off the couch bed. Eddie watches him carefully, but he hardly limps - it's warm in here, and Buck's been well rested from being off work.

Eddie wishes it could stay that way.

~*~

The Christmas party falls on Thursday night, and Buck heads in early to help get set up.

Eddie arrives with Chris at around five. He's nervous, though he can't help but smile when he sees how happy Chris is at the decorations. The entire place is decked out with trees and tinsel and fake Santas, and most of the firefighters are wearing Santa hats.

"Eddie!"

Hen is the first one to notice them come in. He's surprised when he and Chris are immediately accosted into a hug. Chris almost immediately clacks away to play with Denny, leaving Hen to say, "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

The last time they saw each other was when Buck was in hospital. "Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, getting more sleep."

"I bet." She looks amused. "Buck's mentioned that he hasn't been home."

"Yeah, um... he just..."

"Eddie," Hen says gently, "whatever happened between you and Buck - look, we don't like seeing him hurt, that's for sure. But we also like seeing him happy, and he seems happy with you. He said you guys are working it out. You're not public enemy number one... anymore."

Eddie laughs, a combination of awkward and relieved. "Thanks, Hen."

"Besides," she says, "it's good to know someone was watching him. He's a great guy, but he's boneheaded as hell sometimes."

"I'll say," Chimney's voice pipes up. "Look at this."

It's a video of Buck attempting to break his way into tamper-proof plastic packaging - with his hands and teeth. Eddie rubs his face with a sigh while Chimney and Hen laugh.

"You chose him," Hen teases.

"Guess I did," Eddie replies, smiling a little. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Currently our young Buck is being accosted by the children," Chimney says, and gestures.

Eddie turns to find Buck standing near one of the Christmas trees, with a few kids clinging to his legs and laughing. He's wearing his LAFD t-shirt, the ridiculously small one, and blue jeans. The look is complete with his own fluffy Santa hat.

Chris has found him almost immediately. He's on Buck's back and has his head tilted back in a laugh.

"How does he do that?" Chimney wonders aloud. "Every time kids see me they run away crying."

"That's because you stare at them like they're aliens," Hen says. "They know Buck is basically one of them."

Eddie leaves Buck to it - they'll cross paths at some point for sure. For now, he's happy to let the kids torture Buck and to have some adult conversation.

"Eddie!"

It's Maddie - she looks pretty in a floor-length green dress, and treats him to a warm hug. He'd never noticed, but she hugs the same way Buck does - with her whole body, as if she wants nothing more than to put him back together.

All these people treat Eddie with kindness and like he's family just because Buck chose him. It makes his throat feel a little tight.

"How are you?" Maddie asks warmly.

"Good," Eddie says, suddenly tongue-tied. "You? After-"

"Oh, I'm okay," she says cheerfully. She gestures a little, as if to shove everything under an imaginary rug, and says, "what's a few little knife wounds?"

Eddie doesn't exactly know what to say to that. She sounds disturbingly like Buck. "Nothing to a Buckley, I guess," he says, and she smiles. "What're your plans for Christmas?"

"Chimney and I are going away," Maddie sighs, a dreamy look on her face. "I haven't been away for Christmas in a long time. You? What about, um...?"

Shannon, Eddie fills in. "I don't know," he admits. "I think my parents are coming to L.A this year. But I don't know about... yeah."

She nods. "Well, whatever it is," she says kindly, "I'm sure it'll work out."

She looks like she's about to say more, but her eyes drift over Eddie's shoulder at that moment, and in the next second, she says, "Evan Buckley, you get your hands away from those cookies _right now_!"

Eddie whips around to find Buck standing near the dessert table, looking like a deer in the headlights. His hands are behind his back. "Why, Mads?" he whines.

"Because we haven't even had dinner yet!"

"Dinner before dessert is a stupid rule that we as adults can choose to ignore!"

This sounds like an argument they've had dozens of times before, and Eddie can tell from the playful undertone in their voices. As they do, he sidles over to the table and picks up two cookies without Maddie noticing.

"Eddie, help me out here," Maddie groans. "We have to set an example for the kids-"

"Who cares when they eat what? They're getting the same nutrition!"

"Not if their appetite is ruined by junk food! Don't you remember that time you ate a whole jar of-"

"We don't need to hear that story here!"

"-Nutella and you were so sick you-"

Buck lunges towards her, and Maddie shrieks as he wraps her in a bear hug and swings her around in circles. "I'm bigger than you now, I win every argument," Buck teases.

"I'm older, so I'm always right!"

Two stubborn Buckleys is just what Eddie didn't need. He's about to interject when Maddie says, "Eddie, control your boyfriend!"

Buck flushes, looks up, and meets Eddie's eyes, as if suddenly realising he's there. He lets go of Maddie - who punches his shoulder and rejoins Chimney, leaving them to it.

"Hi," Buck mumbles shyly. "I'm glad you came."

"When'd you get all bashful, huh?" Eddie teases, leaning in to kiss him gently. "You were just horsing around before."

"Well, this is different." Buck's still flushed. "I've never brought anyone before. I don't want to embarrass you."

"Buck," Eddie murmurs, gently, taking one of Buck's hands in his own. "You're never gonna be able to embarrass me, cariño. I'm happy to be here. Even if I did nearly hear about your Nutella story."

"Oh, God," Buck groans. He's still holding Eddie's hand, but he's even redder now. "You're not gonna let that one go."

"Pretty sure part of being your boyfriend is knowing all your embarrassing life stories," Eddie says cheerfully, only realising what he's said when Buck looks up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Is that...?"

Eddie nods. "Um, yeah. I figure with me holding a beside vigil and sleeping together... if that's okay with you."

"More than okay," Buck says, leaning in for another quick kiss. There's momentary silence, until Eddie remembers he's holding two cookies in his other hand and has a reason to break it.

"Here," he says, holding them up. "Snuck you these."

Buck lights up at the sight. "How did you-"

"Maddie was a little distracted by a certain annoying baby brother," Eddie teases, but Buck ignores him in favour of biting into one of the cookies. He smiles and he's got a few crumbs and chocolate on his lips and Eddie has never felt so hopelessly attracted to a person. He's doomed.

~*~

He sits next to Buck at dinner, with Maddie and Chimney and Chris. They're like a tiny, somewhat mismatched family unit, and Eddie loves it.

Not that sitting next to Buck lasts for long - he's a social butterfly and while he returns to his seat every so often to talk to Eddie, he's mostly socialising with others. The moment someone's partner enters carrying a baby, it's a lost cause to try and get his attention.

"Eddie?" Maddie asks. She says it like she's been trying to get his attention for a while.

"God," Eddie groans, putting his head in his hands.

"What?" Maddie asks, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Buck's holding a baby."

Maddie turns to look. Buck's over by the Christmas tree, holding the baby girl in his arms, his hand the entire span of her back. He's pointing out the baubles and laughing as she reaches for them, bringing her closer so she can look.

"Does my baby brother fawning over kids do things to you, Eddie?" Maddie coos.

"God," Eddie says into his hands. "Fuck. I'm yearning." He looks up, ignoring the shit-eating grin Maddie has on her face - which really looks startlingly like Buck's - and says, "Can I ask you something?"

"If it's for my brother's hand in marriage, it's too soon."

"It's not that," Eddie murmurs. He's not quite sure how to say what he wants to say without sounding like he's rushing into things or pushing it, so he just ploughs ahead and hopes for the best. "I just... I want him to spend Christmas with us, Maddie."

When he risks a look back at her, she's got a hand over her mouth, and her eyes look misty. "Eddie, really?" she breathes. "You want him to-"

"Spend Christmas with us," he confirms. "I know it's a really important holiday to him, and... I know you and Chimney are going out of town and I hate the idea of him being alone. I know he'd never ask. I know we're still... trying to make something. But I really want him to know how important he is."

"He'd never turn you down, Eddie," Maddie says, taking his hand. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"So what's stopping you?"

"I don't know," Eddie admits, and he really doesn't. "What if Christmas with us isn't what he wants? It's messy, my whole family situation is-"

"Eddie," Maddie says gently, "wherever you are is exactly where my baby brother wants to be."

He sits in stunned silence while she pats his hand and stands up. There's only really one hurdle left now - asking Chris what he thinks.

Somehow, he doesn't think it's going to be much of one.

~*~

"Hey, Chris?"

"Yeah?" Chris yawns. He's in the backseat, and they're headed home after a long day.

"How would you feel about Buck spending Christmas with us?" Eddie asks, a little nervous even as he knows Chris will love the idea.

Predictably, Chris perks up. "That would be the best Christmas ever!" he says excitedly. "Can he come to the mall Santa as well?"

"I'll ask him," Eddie says, smiling.

He'd pulled Buck aside just before leaving the party, and Buck - who'd looked soft and loose-limbed and happy from just being around the people he loves - had given him a short, sweet, no-reason kiss that Eddie had almost fallen into.

"You should come over tonight," he'd murmured against Buck's mouth. "After the party."

Buck had smiled one of those slow, shy smiles that he only ever pulls out for Eddie and says, "Okay. Leave a light on for me?"

"I'll wait up," Eddie had promised.

When they get inside, Eddie gets Christopher ready for bed. Chris is still yammering away about Buck spending Christmas with them, genuinely excited and happy, and Eddie - well, Eddie can't even bring himself to think about the logistics of Shannon and his parents and everything else when he's this at ease, and when Christopher is this happy.

Not long after Chris is in bed and asleep, Buck's Jeep pulls into the driveway. Eddie's at the door before he even gets there, and he's still wearing the fluffy Santa hat.

"This can go," Eddie teases, plucking it off Buck's head as he gets close enough.

"Aw," Buck mumbles, reaching out playfully. "Give it back."

Eddie holds it up, which would work on Chris, but he's forgotten that Buck is taller than him - two inches, which is more than enough to be able to get his hat back. He doesn't swipe for it, though - he steps in closer and puts both hands on Eddie's waist and kisses him, so softly Eddie thinks he might've died and gone to heaven.

"It was really great having you there tonight," Buck mumbles shyly when they break apart. "Everyone loved you."

"That's good," Eddie says, smiling. "I'm planning on sticking around. C'mon, I made us hot chocolate."

"You're the best," Buck says reverently, following Eddie into the living room. He kicks his shoes off and settles on the couch happily, picks up his mug, and drinks.

For a while, they sit in silence, watching some inane show on Netflix. Buck leans his head on Eddie's shoulder and yawns, which is when Eddie realises he should ask the question - before Chris inevitably wakes them in the morning and spills the beans.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs.

"Mmm?" Buck yawns.

"I wanted to ask you something." Eddie sits, and Buck does too, blinking at him. He seems a little unhappy about being roused, but his eyes travel Eddie's face, and his expression settles into one of curiosity.

"What is it?"

Eddie licks his lips. "You can say no," he says quickly. "I... don't want to pressure you into anything, here. I know we're still working on things. But..."

Buck watches him. "Yeah?"

"I know Maddie and Chimney are travelling for Christmas," he says softly. "And I just - I know it means a lot to you and that you aren't working and I hate the idea of you sitting alone in your apartment. So - would you maybe want to spend Christmas with me and Christopher?"

Buck's mouth is a little open, and he looks lost for words for a moment. Eddie tamps down the instinct that translates this as rejection, gives Buck a moment to formulate a sentence - or, well, even a thought.

"You want me to spend Christmas with you?" Buck asks, voice small. "Even after everything that-"

"Especially after all that," Eddie says. "Do you want to? You can say no, I know we've been... trying to get back to, well, something normal, but I thought-"

Buck interrupts him with a kiss, and maybe Eddie shouldn't assume but it feels like a yes, especially when Buck tips him over and crawls on top of him, caging Eddie to the couch with his arms and settling down against his body.

"I can't wait," Buck whispers. "Eddie, I... I don't know what to say, I..."

"Just say you'll come," Eddie murmurs, rubbing the back of Buck's neck. "Just say you'll be there."

"I'll be there," Buck says, his voice breaking. "Yeah, I'll be there."

~*~

Eddie wakes to a hand on his shoulder.

He blinks his eyes open; it's three in the morning, and he's sleeping facing the wall, peacefully, on his side. For a moment, he's tense, wondering who's touching him.

Then he hears a deep, rumbling sigh behind him, and remembers that Buck stayed the night, and that he's a notorious cuddler. As in - Eddie has never been cuddled, snuggled, or embraced this much in his life, ever.

Eddie can't be mad - Buck's pulling at his shoulder gently, until Eddie rolls onto his back. Buck's other arm settles behind his head, and Buck pulls him in close, until his thigh can settle over Eddie's hips and his other arm is across Eddie's chest. His nose presses to Eddie's temple.

"You okay?" Eddie whispers.

"Nightmare," Buck mumbles back.

"Need anything?"

"No. Just you." Buck yawns. "Go back to sleep."

He reaches over, just to smooth a hand through Buck's hair comfortingly and thumb his birthmark. Then he closes his eyes, and listens to Buck's breathing until sleep claims him again.

~*~

When he wakes, it's to the realisation that Buck isn't in bed, and that he's overslept.

"Fuck!" He's out of bed and running to Chris's room before he even really thinks about what he's doing - only Chris's bed is empty.

"Oh, God," Eddie says, and then his phone pings from the bedroom and he races back to it, heart pounding.

That's when he sees the note on Buck's pillow.

**You were dead asleep. Took Chris to school for you - pancakes in the kitchen :)**

The text on his phone is from Buck, and it's much the same. Eddie relaxes, realising that his kid is in perfectly safe hands and Buck has gone out of his way to make sure Eddie actually got a decent night's rest.

He heads into the kitchen, finds a plate of pancakes on the counter. They're covered in plastic wrap, but still warm to the touch - Eddie microwaves them a little, then adds syrup and sits down to eat. Buck even remembered to get Chris's homework from the kitchen table.

He's doing the dishes when the front door opens, and he hears Buck enter with a curse. He's still got his hands in the soapy water when Buck approaches, wrapping his arms around Eddie from behind and tucking his nose against his neck.

"Jesus, your nose is freezing," Eddie complains.

"Should feel my hands." With that, Buck slides them up under Eddie's t-shirt, making him yelp. "C'mon, I made you breakfast, be my heater."

"I have an actual heater, you know."

"I like you better."

Eddie turns around. Buck's hair is curling wildly - it's been a while since he got it cut and Eddie reaches up to tug it a little, smiling when it bounces back. Then he notices the bags under Buck's eyes, and how tired he looks.

"You okay?"

"Didn't sleep great," Buck admits.

Eddie remembers, then, waking in the middle of the night, Buck saying he'd had a nightmare. "You should've woken me up."

"Then neither of us would've slept," Buck yawns. "No point in that."

Eddie's not sure he agrees. He'd like to think that he was capable of soothing Buck back into sleep - but maybe he's not. "I guess," he sighs. "Hey, you want to help me sneak some presents under the tree?"

Buck perks up at that. "Yeah! I, uh, I hope it's okay, I kinda got him something too."

Eddie kisses him quickly. "Of course it's okay. He's probably the most spoiled kid in all of L.A, but..."

They get the presents under the tree, which involves climbing into the attic and getting them down. Eddie passes them to Buck, and Buck slides them underneath until there's a pile there. There are, of course, a few left from "Santa" that Eddie will spend a painstaking night putting out without waking Chris.

It's shaping up to be a good Christmas.

~*~

The mall is relatively quiet, and Chris makes a beeline for Santa, banishing Eddie and Buck to the sidelines. "It's a secret," he insists. "You and Bucky can't know."

"Okay, mijo," Eddie says, amused. They sit down by the fountain, within waving distance, as Chris joins the line. "He didn't say that last year."

"Oh well," Buck says cheerfully. "Growing up, getting independent, all that." He turns to look at Eddie, smiling. "Thanks for inviting me, Eds."

"Of course," Eddie says, and risks reaching out to take Buck's hand. Buck's fingers curl around his instantly, and his smile is so wide and so pleased Eddie can't fathom letting go, even if this is new for him.

"Hey," he murmurs, "I appreciate you being patient with me. With - all the physical affection stuff. I know it's not new to you, but it is to me, and... yeah. Thanks."

"Of course," Buck mimics, and Eddie laughs. "Eds, I'm happy to go at your pace, you know?"

"I know." He feels warm with it - Buck isn't going to push, and they've been communicating and going to therapy and time seems to have healed some of the wounds on both parts and - well, Eddie can feel that this might work. With effort, with mutual understanding, this could work and be something amazing.

On impulse, he leans over and gives Buck a quick kiss. Nobody even reacts, and that's - well, Eddie's not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't the lack of reaction they've received.

Buck's eyes drift over his shoulder when they break apart. "He's done."

Eddie turns and stands - an elf lady is ushering Chris towards them, beaming. "Hey, buddy," Eddie says, smiling. "What'd you ask for?"

"Can't tell," Chris says. "Santa said he'd work on it."

"Right," Eddie laughs, and he goes to pick Chris up, only for Chris to say,

"Daddy, I want Buck to carry me!"

"You're the new favourite," Eddie teases as Buck hefts Chris into his arms with a little chuckle.

"Can we get ice cream?" Chris asks.

"Chris, it's like five degrees out," Buck says. "What about hot chocolate instead?"

Leave it to Buck to suggest an equally sugary option - one that will undoubtedly keep Chris awake anyway. "There's hot chocolate that way!" he says, pointing with his crutch.

"Yes sir!"

Eddie watches them for a moment, then turns back to the elf, who's beaming. "Thanks," he says. "I hope he was well behaved."

"Oh, he's gorgeous," she gushes. "You two have an adorable son."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn't know quite what to say to that - he's about to refute it, and then he thinks of all the times Chris has asked for Buck when he's been upset, the way Chris wanted to see Buck when they weren't talking and was soothed only by him, the way he clung to Buck for comfort as early as a month into their fake dating. And he thinks of Buck - how he glows looking at Christopher, how he'd stalled out in recovery at the hospital and was pale and generally miserable until Eddie brought Chris in to see him.

He opens his mouth again, to clarify, only what comes out is, "Thank you," around a pleased smile as he trots to catch up to his boys.

~*~

"Okay, pal, let's get you inside."

"Not sleepy," Chris mumbles (sleepily) from his car seat.

Eddie sees the edge of Buck's smile as he leans over to unbuckle the seatbelt. "Y'know," Buck says, with an exaggerated yawn, "I'm pretty sleepy."

Chris opens one eye to peer at him. "Really?"

"Yup. The playground was wild."

Buck had joined Chris in the playground at the cafe they'd gone to, and had fallen at least three times from various different structures, much to the amusement of the children around him. He does look tired, but not any more than what Eddie is used to seeing.

"I'll go to bed if you're going to bed," Chris mumbles into Buck's shoulder.

Buck smiles, meeting Eddie's eyes over Chris's head of curls. "Okay, little man. Sounds good."

He heads into the house with Eddie in tow. "I got it," he whispers; Chris has fallen back asleep on his shoulder. "I'll get him into bed."

"Thanks," Eddie says, running a hand over Buck's back gently, gratified by the way he shivers at the touch.

Eddie's pottering around in the kitchen and looking forward to bed, with Buck, when there's a knock on the door. Realistically, he knows who it probably is at this hour, but he answers anyway.

"Shannon," he says tiredly.

She looks down at her feet. "Can I come in?"

Eddie steps outside instead and closes the door behind him. It's cold out, but he doesn't want to wake Chris up if it's avoidable. "What's up?" he asks. "It's late."

"I saw you at the mall Santa," she says.

Eddie says nothing. He can read the disappointment in her tone better than anything else because disappointment is the thing he heard most from her, towards the end and after Chris was born. They used to take Chris to the mall Santa together, and for a moment, he looks at her and remembers that they didn't always hate each other - that at one point, they loved each other enough to have a kid.

That just makes him sad. He's not sure how it went wrong, only that it did, and that he seemed helpless to stop it.

"It's tradition," he says, which is the only thing he can think to say.

"Yeah, for us," she protests, voice taking on a tinge of hurt and desperation. "Not for you and..."

She can't even say his name. "I thought we were past this," he mumbles, rubbing his face. "His name is Buck, Shannon-"

"He's a he," Shannon says, voice wobbling. "I kind of figured - I mean I could see it in the hospital because it's how you used to look at me, I just didn't think..."

"You didn't think it would last," Eddie realises aloud. "Is that the reason you were okay with it? Because you figured once he was better I'd change my mind?" It's the opposite - if anything, Eddie's just planted his feet more, is even more unwilling to leave Buck's side now.

"It doesn't matter," Shannon says. "You've introduced a guy to our son when you weren't even interested in men a few months ago, and you're doing family things with him and he's not part of this family, he's not-"

"I decide who's part of my family," Eddie snaps. "And Buck more than counts. He's invited to Christmas and he's going to be there and if you can't accept him being there on Christmas day, don't bother showing up."

She stares at him. It's been a long time since he stood up to her - since he actually bothered thinking that maybe if she could've done something about the custody arrangement, she would have by now. God knows she hasn't exactly played nice with him.

"You really think people are going to accept this?" she asks softly. "That you're, what, gay now?"

"It doesn't matter," Eddie says, and it really, really doesn't at this point in time. "I spent months pretending I didn't feel anything for him and then he nearly fucking died. He nearly got killed because I wasn't - I wasn't there to protect him." It's hard to admit out loud, and his voice breaks, but he continues. "I'm not going to pretend I feel nothing for him again."

They're silent for a moment. Eddie's got no idea where Buck's gone, or if he's overheard anything, but right now all he wants is to find the guy and hold him - to let Buck soothe him the way Eddie knows he will.

"You know Buck isn't the reason Chris doesn't want to see you," Eddie says softly. "We both know that. He stopped wanting to see you a long time before Buck was in the picture. What I don't know is what happened, or why."

"Like I know?" Shannon asks, and her voice cracks. "If I knew I - I don't, Eddie. I have no idea why he won't see me. How do I know it's not you talking about me behind my back?"

"To our seven year old son?" Eddie asks disbelievingly. "You really think I'd do that?"

"I don't know!" Shannon yells. "I can't think of-"

The front door opens, and Buck sticks his head out. He looks at both of them, then says quietly, "Chris is sleeping."

It's not an admonishment aimed at Eddie, but he feels it all the same. "Go home, Shannon," he says tiredly. "Call in the morning if you want. But I'm not doing this in the freezing cold on the front doorstep."

"Fine," she says. "For what it's worth, Buck - I'm glad you're better, but you're not his father."

"I'm not trying to be," Buck says softly.

She doesn't seem to know what to do with Buck, who doesn't rise to her bait even as something flares up behind his eyes. Eddie joins him in the doorway as Shannon takes her leave.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asks when they head inside.

Buck chews his lip. "Most of it," he admits. "Eddie... you know it wasn't your fault, right? What Matt did?"

He really did hear everything, then. "If I hadn't treated you like-"

"Eddie, Mads was worried Doug was stalking her," Buck explains. "I was there because she was scared. There's nothing you could've done differently, man. It would've happened either way."

Eddie nods, and Buck smiles at him.

"Besides. Kinda nice to hear you say you feel things for me."

"Of course I do," Eddie grumbles, which only makes Buck's grin widen. "What, you thought I held a vigil for nothing? That I rewired my sexuality so I didn't inconvenience you-"

He's being dramatic now, and Buck must know it, because he laughs quietly and shuffles into Eddie's space until Eddie's forced to hug him. "I'm protesting," Eddie says, even as he wraps his arms tightly around Buck. "This is a protest."

"Sure," Buck says happily, burrowing into his arms. "You think I'm family."

Eddie sighs, breathing in Buck's aftershave and unique scent. "I don't think it, I know it," he admits. "And I'm really glad you're here."

Buck's arms tighten. "Me too, Eds," he whispers. "Me too."


	17. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is lowkey one of my favourite chapters and it's also almost 10k long so i hope you guys enjoy! and THANK YOU for all the love you guys showed on Love Languages :D
> 
> once again i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

"Did you sleep at all?"

Eddie looks up from his phone. Buck is blinking one blue eye at him blearily - his face is stuffed into the pillow, arms tucked underneath it. He's wearing a t-shirt that stretches hysterically thin across his shoulders.

Eddie smooths a hand across Buck's shoulders, then down to the dip in his waist, where he's narrowest. "I think you need new shirts," he teases gently. "This one is crying out for help."

"Eddie," Buck says.

Eddie sighs. "I got some."

"Liar," Buck mumbles, but he shuffles out from the pillow and closer to Eddie's hip. "I was awake at two and you were still up."

"You didn't have any nightmares, though," Eddie says. "That's good."

"What would be actually good would be both of us getting enough sleep," Buck replies. He pushes his head up when Eddie cards a hand through his short blonde hair. "Which, you know, you aren't. What's going on?"

"I was just thinking about Shannon."

"About what she said?" Buck blinks. "Why don't you just ask Chris what happened?"

This, somehow, had not occurred to Eddie in the slightest. "I'm an idiot," he realises aloud.

Buck snuffles a sleepy laugh and tugs Eddie back under the duvet. "Maybe," he says. "But you're an idiot with his heart in the right place."

"... Thanks, I think."

Buck smiles. The morning light glints off the scar on his head, and Eddie reaches up to touch it gently. The skin is smooth beneath his fingertips, even through the fuzz of Buck's hair regrowing more evenly.

"Does this hurt?"

Buck shakes his head. "Hasn't since the first few days."

Eddie slides his palm up under Buck's shirt, finds the scar from his splenectomy. "This?"

Buck shakes his head mutely, gazing up at Eddie in what might be actual wonderment. "I'm okay, Eds," he say. "What's wrong? You haven't asked about it in ages."

"Maybe I should have," Eddie mumbles guiltily.

"Are you still thinking about last night? I already told you there's nothing you could've done differently-"

"No, I just..." He sighs, rubbing Buck's sternum with the pad of his thumb. He's sleep-warm and smells like clean sheets and aftershave, and Eddie joins him in a fully reclined position. "I want to be better to you, you know?"

"You're great to me," Buck says earnestly.

"Buck, what happened when you told me how-"

"We're past that, Eddie," Buck says softly, gazing into his eyes. "I told you we're past that. You apologised and I forgave you. Shannon's really got you in knots, huh?"

He both loathes and loves the way Buck cuts straight to the centre of the issue, knows exactly what it is on his mind. It forces him to be honest, which is good for him but he also really doesn't like - half the time, Buck realises things before even Eddie does.

"Yeah," he says. "She was upset because mall Santa used to be our tradition. I just... Christmas sounds like it's gonna be stressful this year, that's all. Shannon will want to see Christopher, abuela and pepa are coming over, my parents might come down..."

A long pause. Buck looks down, licks his lips. "Your parents... who aren't comfortable with me."

"Yeah."

"Eddie, I can-" Buck's voice sounds a little hoarse. "I can... you don't have to have me, I can find somewhere else or, I've spent Christmas alone, it's no big deal-"

"What?" Eddie asks, horrified. "No! No, that's not what I'm saying at all, hey!" He takes Buck's face in his hands, but Buck is still refusing to look at him. "Por favor mírame, cariño, hey."

Buck looks up - more confused, now, because he doesn't know what Eddie's saying - and blinks. He actually looks sad, and Eddie can't have that because he's sick of Buck feeling sad and unsure of himself and sick of seeing him in pain, so he kisses him gently, trying to pour as much affection in as he can.

Buck makes a little murmuring sound into his mouth, melts into his grip. When they break apart, his lips are red.

"Buck, you and Chris are the only parts of Christmas I'm looking forward to," Eddie mumbles into Buck's mouth. "Please come. I don't care what my parents will say, or how Shannon is gonna behave. It just matters that you're there."

Buck smiles. "Wouldn't miss it, Eds," he says, and shuffles closer. "What's the plan, anyway? Should I just come over Christmas morning?"

"Actually," Eddie says, feeling inexplicably nervous at what he's about to suggest - he knows Buck loves being here and really isn't that attached to his own place and will be thoroughly delighted to be swept up into Christmas activities - "I was um, I was thinking - I'm off work, and Chris has finished up school, Liam is coming over for a sleepover tonight... maybe you could stay a few days?"

Buck rolls on top of him, deliciously heavy and smelling of something woody and spicy. He combs a hand through Eddie's hair, smiling down at him.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were starting to like having me around, Diaz."

Eddie huffs a laugh. Buck is the only person to have ever called him Diaz and get away with it. "Maybe a little. Maybe I just like your cooking."

"Oh I see, I'm being used. Got it."

"But will you?" Eddie presses. He gets his hands beneath Buck's shirt and slides them to the narrowest point on his waist, making Buck shiver happily. "Stay, that is? You can watch Chris unwrap his presents."

It'll be the longest time they've spent together. Even after Buck's surgery, he hadn't stayed for more than three nights. They're both aware of the temptation to move too quickly but - damn it, Eddie misses Buck so much when he's gone it actually scares him a little.

"I'd love to," Buck says, ducking his head to kiss Eddie softly.

"Ewww," Chris's voice complains from the doorway.

"He made me do it, Chris," Buck says, instantly, and Eddie's mouth falls open at the betrayal.

Chris giggles, crutching over to them, and Buck rolls off Eddie to hoist him into the bed and tickle him. Chris shrieks with laughter, flailing and managing to land a solid hit to Eddie's kidney.

"What'd we say about waking Daddy up?" Eddie groans.

"Not to unless it's bad," Chris says. "But Dad, you're already awake."

His seven year old child is playing semantics with him and his twenty six year old child is encouraging it by saying, "He has a point, Eds. We were already awake."

"Don't you start," he says, jabbing his hand into Buck's side and causing him to yelp. "C'mon. Let's get some breakfast and then we can go get Liam!"

"Are you staying, Bucky?" Chris asks hopefully.

"Sure am, little man. What's on the agenda?"

"I don't know, Buck, I'm seven."

Buck cracks up at that, rolls them both out of bed and juggles Chris until he's braced on Buck's hip, able to cling and giggle happily. "Well, guess we better start one, then."

~*~

Chris hugs Liam when they go to pick him up, which is so sweet Eddie could cry and Buck almost definitely actually does.

"Hello, Mr. Diaz," Liam says, ever respectful. "Hi, Mr. Buck."

Eddie snorts at how genuinely pained Buck looks by the name. "You can call us Eddie and Buck, kiddo," Eddie says with a smile, giving Liam a hug when he gets close enough. "I think Buck feels old when you call him that."

"But he is old," Liam says, confused. Eddie barks a laugh out as Buck clutches his chest dramatically.

"Ouch, Liam."

"What? You're like, a grownup. Grownups are old."

"I am not a grownup," Buck says indignantly, sweeping in to tickle both Liam and Christopher.

"Can confirm," Eddie says dryly.

~*~

They spend the day making gingerbread houses, and Buck has the idea to invite Hen and Denny around as well.

Chris has only had one playdate with Denny, but he didn't inherit any of Eddie's reservedness and wholeheartedly greets the kid at the door. Thankfully, he and Liam take to each other well, and soon Eddie and Hen are sitting with hot chocolate and leaving Buck to the mercy of the kids.

"I'm so glad he knows how to bake," Eddie groans. "I didn't think this whole gingerbread house thing through."

Hen chuckles. "It's not really my thing, but the kids seem like they're having fun." Eddie follows her gaze to the kids - and Buck, who's stirring icing with a level of enthusiasm that just can't be faked. "All four of them."

He snorts. She has a point there.

As they watch, Buck gets up to go get more icing mix from the kitchen. He limps on the way, and Eddie's half out of his seat before he remembers that Buck isn't an invalid and doesn't need his help. He's been limping a little more since his ordeal with Matt - he hasn't been allowed to do exercises that would normally keep the pain and injury at bay.

"How's he going?" Hen asks softly.

Eddie rubs his face. "Limping more. But doesn't seem to be in pain otherwise." He sighs. "I wish there was something I could do."

Hen shakes her head. "He wouldn't let you anyway," she says. "After the accident he was back up on his feet way faster than anyone wanted... I love him, but boy's dumb as hell when it comes to this stuff. Doc said he might never walk without a limp, now he goes running."

Eddie nods, watching as Buck resettles at the coffee table and has the sudden urge to tell him to sit on the damn couch where it won't hurt. But he can't, because Buck isn't an infant, isn't stupid, and would probably just be embarrassed and a little pissed.

"You really like him, huh?" Hen asks, her smile knowing over the rim of her mug.

"Yeah," Eddie says, vaguely panicked by the idea. "I think I did for a while."

"We've been known, sweetie," Hen scoffs.

"What?"

"Oh please. You were making moon eyes at him the first time he brought you to the 118."

"... Did everyone know before me?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, pretty much. Except Buck, apparently." Hen smiles. "It doesn't matter. You're both fine and you got here, right? So don't worry about it. Just enjoy it. He's great... you haven't even scratched the surface yet."

Eddie stares at Buck - who is saying, "Okay, who needs more cement?" and grinning as all three kids crow at him gleefully, and thinks he might've started.

~*~

"Okay," Buck yawns. "Chris is in bed with Chompy and Dragon and Pig and - fuck, I forgot the cow's name - and Liam's passed out right next to him."

"Bells," Eddie says absently.

"What?"

"The cow's name. Bells."

Buck nods like that makes perfect sense and collapses onto the couch, folding up until he's managed to get his head into Eddie's lap. He tugs the ever-present Spider Man blanket down over himself and blinks up at Eddie, yawning again.

Eddie sticks his finger in Buck's mouth, and Buck jerks away. "What the hell?" he complains.

Eddie grins. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

"Nngh," Buck says intelligently, rolling until he's got his face pressed to Eddie's stomach and gotten an arm around him. "I'm so tired. Why am I so tired? They're two tiny humans who probably don't even weigh what I do put together."

Eddie smiles, dropping a hand to rub at the soft juncture of Buck's neck and his shoulder. His skin erupts into goosebumps at the contact, and Eddie slips his fingers under the collar to see how far they go.

"Don't tease me," Buck mumbles into his stomach. "There are kids in this house."

"Sorry," Eddie says, totally unrepentant.

Buck shifts to get up, then, winces as he does so and almost staggers on his bad leg. Eddie's up in an instant, going to grab him, even though he logically knows Buck won't fall.

"You good?" he asks worriedly.

"Yeah," Buck sighs. "Just hurts, that's all."

"You're worse today," Eddie notes, noting that it seems to be more Buck's lower leg that's suffering currently. "What's up?"

Buck shakes his head. "It's just colder," he admits, "and we've been running around with the kids and I haven't been able to go to physical therapy because it's all closed for the holidays. But it's not - it's not that bad, it's not your problem-"

"It is my problem," Eddie says immediately - he's upset by the idea that Buck's been in pain and hiding it from him. "When you became my boyfriend it became my problem, hermoso. Uh - go sit on the couch, I'll find you some deep heat."

Buck hesitates, but his leg must be really bothering him, because he caves and goes back to the couch. Eddie heads into the bathroom, digs out the deep heat, and - upon consideration - finds the heat pack Shannon used to use when she got bad cramping with her period.

(Eddie still has it. It's one of those lingering relics he doesn't seem able to get rid of.)

He heats it up in the microwave, staring at it spinning for a long time. He hates that Buck's in pain and he hates being helpless and he hates that Buck didn't say anything, didn't feel like he could for whatever reason. He hates all of it.

The microwave beeps. He grabs the heat pack and heads back to the living room, where Buck is reclined on the couch. He looks a little pale, now that Eddie's paying attention.

He squats down in front of Buck's face. "What's going on?" he asks quietly.

Buck blinks slowly. "Some days are just bad pain days," he admits softly. "Today's a bad pain day."

Eddie reaches up, finds Buck's hip, and probes a little. Buck winces and pulls back, almost immediately.

"I've never seen you this bad before, querido," he murmurs.

"I usually go home." Buck reclines a little better. "If I feel it coming on I usually go home."

Eddie's eyes sting. "You've had bad days without telling me?"

"I just - Eddie, man, I'm used to dealing with it on my own, I'm used to-"

"But you don't have to anymore. You have me."

Buck doesn't seem to have a response to that. Eddie waits, but he doesn't say anything, so he presses on. "Can I take a look?" he asks hesitantly. "You know, put something on it?"

Buck nods, and Eddie gets up, settles on the couch in between Buck's hips. "Does anywhere else hurt?" he asks.

"No," Buck says, too quickly.

"Buck..."

Buck shifts. "Where they - where it actually broke, and they put in the screws. That hurts," he admits. "Like, the muscles. They get all knotted up."

"Okay. Um, can I - can I look there too, then?"

Buck hesitates before nodding uncertainly. Eddie resolves to start with his hip, ease him into it, and pulls Buck's sweats down gently. He's wearing boxers underneath, and Eddie begins on the deep heat briskly, moving gently but firmly to get it rubbed in.

Buck watches TV distractedly as Eddie works. He doesn't seem to notice him stopping, until Eddie says, "Okay, rest of your leg?"

Buck nods mutely.

"Can I take these off?" Eddie pulls lightly at Buck's sweats, and Buck nods again, albeit nervously. "You can tell me to stop anytime."

"I know." The words seem to comfort Buck, though, because he relaxes minutely.

Eddie pulls his sweats off, not reacting to the scarring on Buck's lower leg. He's seen it before, and while it's always a little confronting, it's just how things are and he knows that Buck is probably already self conscious.

"Where?" he asks, settling his hands on Buck's shin.

"Lower." He keeps moving, probing a little, until Buck's leg jerks. "There."

"Okay." He gets more deep heat on his fingers, begins to work it gently into the muscle. He can feel how tight and knotted it is, realises guiltily how much pain Buck must have been in for the majority of the day without him noticing. Buck had said he's trained himself not to show it, but damn, Eddie should know better.

"Buck, I... I'm sorry I didn't..."

He looks up. It's dark in the living room, but he can see silvery threads of tears making their way down the sides of Buck's face, and his gut simultaneously freezes and drops. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt-"

"It doesn't," Buck says, voice breaking. "Hurt, that is. Not more than usual anyway."

Eddie still hesitates, but ultimately goes back to what he's doing - he can feel it's working, and when he's done he coaxes Buck over onto his side and settles the heat pack against the muscle. Buck's still sort of crying, which is - so disturbing Eddie has to ask.

"Why are you...?"

Buck sniffs. "Ali left because she couldn't handle me being a firefighter, but she also left because I wasn't the guy she started going out with," Buck explains. "I was getting pain attacks four or five times a day and I was in fucking agony and - it was all really new, I couldn't expect her to put up with it, I get that."

Eddie does too, even though part of him hates that Buck was just left to suffer. "I'm sorry."

"And then you come along and you don't even think it's ugly and you don't care that I'm in pain or limping or broken and you just - you try so hard to make it better. Nobody's done that before, Eds. I'm just - I'm mushy 'cause you care, okay?"

"Okay," Eddie whispers, leaning over until he's close enough to kiss Buck's shoulder. "You wanna eat a whole gingerbread house?"

Buck chokes on a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds good. And beer?"

"Sure. I'll get it."

He retrieves their treats and goes back to the couch, where Buck shuffles to put his head in Eddie's lap and uses one hand to stroke his knee, and Eddie's living room is bathed in Christmas lights and the remnants of a chaotic day spent with kids and his sweats are kind of getting crumbs on them from Buck eating sideways, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

~*~

The next day brings good tidings and bad.

The good: Buck is perkier and moving more easily after a massage yesterday, and even seems to take Eddie's words into consideration, letting him do the majority of the roughhousing with Chris and Liam.

The bad: Shannon calls asking for Chris, and Eddie - who is on the tightrope of not forcing Chris to do things he doesn't want to do and not incurring Shannon's wrath and therefore a family court battle - tries to get Chris to at least say hello.

Chris refuses, throws a tantrum the likes of which Eddie has hardly ever seen - and Buck is visibly shocked by - and slams the door to his room.

Eddie explains, Shannon gets mad, and when he knocks on Chris's door to try and get him to open up, he's told in no uncertain terms to go away. He does, devastated that he can't help his kid and that he's failing on the front of making him feel safe.

"I don't know what to do," he says to Buck, who's made them both coffee - mostly, Eddie realises, because Buck is nervous and doesn't really know what to do with a tantruming seven year old. "I don't want to make him go but he won't tell me what happened."

"I can try talking to him," Buck says softly.

Eddie can hear the hesitation in Buck's voice, the undercurrent of fear that he might be rejected, and knows what it took for Buck to offer - that he's still smarting from the recent return of Matt and fighting every self-preservation instinct he has in order to build something with Eddie. It's obvious in his reticence to be honest about having any emotion other than cheerfulness, and something that Eddie knows he's desperately working on.

And it means a lot. In fact, it means everything.

"Okay," Eddie says, and Buck relaxes by about a hair. "If that's okay-"

"Yeah, I'm, I'm more than happy to," Buck says.

And so Eddie waits in the kitchen, nursing his coffee and staring out the window and wondering he started to feel this old - wondering when the days had begun to blur together in such a way he couldn't hold onto them anymore, slipping away to somewhere he couldn't reach. He wonders when it happened and wonders how to stop it.

Things still feel complicated. The bills are still coming and Shannon might still take Chris away and Eddie might not get into the fire academy and Chris won't tell him what's going on. What's he supposed to do?

"Eds?"

Eddie looks up, and Buck sits down with a sigh. "He wouldn't tell me," he murmurs. "He said he would, but he wasn't ready to now."

Eddie is half grateful that Chris feels comfortable setting boundaries and half wants to plough through them and force him to cough it up. "It's hurting him," he says weakly. "How can I help if he won't-"

"Eddie, he knows you're there for him," Buck says, concern marring his tone. "He knows he can tell you he just - he doesn't feel ready yet. He will though, Eds."

Eddie nods. Buck hesitates for a moment, then stands up and pulls Eddie into a hug, holding him securely against his chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, comforting, and he uses one hand to card through Eddie's hair gently.

"You're a good dad, Eds," Buck says softly. "He's really lucky he's got you." After a long moment, "We both are."

Eddie sighs, nuzzling his face closer to Buck's shirt and inhaling his scent. "How's your leg?" he asks.

"A lot better. Doesn't hurt at all today. You might've missed your calling as a massage therapist."

Eddie looks up at him. "Buck," he says softly, "you gotta let me help you, man. I hate the idea that you might be in pain and not saying anything."

Buck looks uncomfortable, but he eventually nibbles on his lip in the way he does when he's about to agree to something he doesn't necessarily want to, and says, "Yeah. It's just - when it's the reason someone left..."

"I know. But I won't." He knows he'll have to prove it, but seriously - maybe it will start to sink in, little by little, that he's here to stay.

"So," Buck says, "lunch?"

~*~

Christmas rolls around far quicker than Eddie would like.

His folks get in at seven on Christmas Eve, although they're staying with his Pepa and not with him, which is at least a relief. His father hasn't mentioned Buck, and Eddie hasn't mentioned it either.

If Buck's nervous, he's not showing it. He's so clearly basking in the fun of having a family unit and kid around for Christmas Eddie can't feel any reservations about asking him to stay - he's happier and healthier than Eddie's seen him for a while, and he has to admit to himself that he doesn't want Buck to go back to work, where Eddie knows he'll be tired and at risk.

He'll feel better when he's out there with him.

They wake on Christmas morning at around six AM, which is a blatant flouting of Eddie's "don't wake Daddy up before 7am" rule, but he'll allow it on this particular occasion.

"Daddy, Bucky," Chris's voice says excitedly, "Santa came!"

"Really?" Buck asks excitedly. He sounds - decidedly not sleepy, Eddie realises, and registers that Buck's eyes are wide and blue in the weak morning light. The bastard wasn't even sleeping, clearly. "We better go look! C'mon, Eds-"

"No, quiero abrazos primero," Eddie whines, and grabs Chris in a hug before turning so he's in the middle of the bed. "Merry Christmas, mijo."

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Chris says cheerfully. "Merry Christmas, Bucky!"

Buck gathers them all in close. "Merry Christmas," he whispers, and kisses Eddie over Chris's head. "Thanks for having me."

"Anytime."

"Dad, Buck," Chris whines, squirming, "stop kissing and come open presents!"

With that, he's off, and Eddie rolls onto his back with a groan. Buck rolls onto his stomach and moves in close, kisses Eddie's chin and puts his head down on Eddie's chest with a smile.

"When did my kid turn into a dictator?" Eddie wonders.

"He's seven," Buck says sagely, closing his eyes when Eddie plays with some errant curls on his head. "They only have ego."

"Okay, Dr. Phil," Eddie laughs. "Let's go. He's not gonna wait much longer."

~*~

Chris opens his present from Santa, first, which is a cerebral-palsy friendly bike and helmet.

Among the other presents are a Nintendo Switch with Animal Crossing on it (Chris had been begging, but Eddie just couldn't afford it on his own - he and Buck split, with Buck paying more on his own insistence), a crystal-growing kit, a new art set, and various different stuffed animals and Legos.

"He got completely spoiled," Eddie says as Chris eagerly pulls open the art set. "Somehow I'll have to top it next year."

"But he's so happy," Buck grins. "Isn't it worth it?"

"Always," Eddie says. "So um... I got you something."

Buck blinks. "I, Eddie, you didn't have to-"

"Well, I did," he says, retrieving the bag from under the tree. "Here. Merry Christmas, Buck."

Buck leans over the back of the couch and pulls out a garishly (and terribly) wrapped present, with a card taped to the top, and smiles meekly. He's blushing. "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

They decide to open at the same time, to save any awkwardness. Eddie's is far larger than Buck's, and when he rips it open, he finds a gym bag - complete with a brand-new pair of boxing gloves, hand wraps, and shin guards. In the card, a year-long pass to the muay thai gym he'd admired once on the pier.

"Buck," he breathes out. First - it's too much, far more than what Eddie spent on Buck, and Buck - was freaked out by the idea of martial arts in the first place, so why-

"You gave up the gym to pay for me," Buck mumbles, furiously red. "And I know you love muay thai and MMA but can't afford it so I thought I - I thought I'd get you started again."

"Aren't you scared-"

"No," Buck says quickly, shuffling closer to him on the couch. "God, Eddie, never of you."

Dios, but Buck must trust him to - actively encourage this thing that was used to scare and intimidate him before. "Open yours," he encourages, seeing that Buck has only just started ripping the paper up.

Buck rips the paper gleefully, the same expression as Christopher had on his face, and then opens the box, tracing the face of the watch inside. It's to replace Buck's old one, the one he'd been wearing when Matt had - well. It's nice, Fossil brand with a face big enough to look strong against Buck's wrist instead of silly.

"Wow," Buck murmurs. "It's - it's amazing, Eddie, how did you-"

"I asked Maddie." He swallows, reaches into the box to pluck the watch out and then fastens it on Buck's wrist. "She said you lost yours."

Buck kisses him, smiling. "I love it. Thank you."

"There's, uh," Eddie says. "One more. From me and Chris."

Chris comes over, then, pats Buck's leg impatiently until he's lifted onto the couch. "This is the best one," he crows. "Open it, Bucky!"

"Okay, okay," Buck laughs, ripping through the paper and revealing a little velvet box. He looks up at Eddie questioningly, before flipping it open.

It's hard to describe Buck's expression in that moment. It's gone weirdly blank, except his eyes are huge and his mouth is a little tense. Eddie suddenly wonders if it was too much, too soon, but it was the one thing he could think of that might make Buck realise how wanted he is.

"You don't have to keep it if it's too much," he says quietly.

"You can come over whenever you want now!" Chris says excitedly. "It says hogar on it when you turn it over! That means-"

"Home," Buck chokes.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "Look, I - I'm sorry, it was too soon-"

Buck grips both of them in a hug, and Eddie can feel that the collar of his shirt is getting wet. Buck's crying, and he really, really didn't mean for that to happen, especially not on Christmas day. "I'm sorry," he says desperately, combing through Buck's hair gently. "I'm sorry-"

"Bucky, why are you sad?" Chris asks, patting Buck's arm.

Buck pulls away, wipes his eyes quickly. "I'm not, buddy," he says hoarsely. "I'm - I'm actually really happy. Sometimes people cry when they're happy."

"Oh." Chris brightens. "So you'll come and stay lots? Daddy can go to work and we can make forts!"

"Yeah, little man, I - I can't wait." Buck lifts the key out of the box. It's on a chain - thick links, titanium and steel. Something that won't break or rust. It dangles there, in the air, for a moment, the cursive writing clearly legible in the sunlight.

Buck slips it around his neck and tucks it into his shirt. "This is the best present anyone's ever given me," he says seriously.

Eddie smiles weakly. It didn't backfire after all. "I'm glad. I wanted today to be fun for you."

Buck kisses him again. "This is the best day ever," he murmurs into Eddie's mouth.

"Can we have breakfast?" Chris asks, shattering the moment. Eddie groans, but Buck laughs and gets off the couch to go start pancakes.

No matter what the day turns out like, Eddie will cherish this morning forever.

~*~

His mother and father arrive at nine, after the Diaz boys and Buck have been awake for three hours.

Eddie is nervous but has resolved to dig his heels in if push comes to shove. Still, he greets his mother and father with a hug, and they enter with abuela and Pepa.

"Where's that lovely boy of yours, then, sobrino?" Pepa teases him.

"I'm here!" Buck calls from the kitchen, just as Eddie's begun to blush. He exits, wearing an apron that he'd insisted on bringing over when he saw just how messy Eddie was when trying to cut - well, anything - and smiles as he shucks it off over his head.

"This is Buck, then?" Ramon asks, his eyes taking Buck in as he bends to hug abuela and Pepa.

"Papá," Eddie says warningly.

Buck turns to them. "Hi, Mr. And Mrs. Diaz," he says, and he's clearly a little nervous but he shakes Ramon's hand and gives Helena a warm hug. "It's really nice to meet you. Sorry I didn't come out earlier - Chris and I are starting on the vegetables."

His mother lights up. "You're already cooking?"

"Yeah, we figured we'd start early-"

"Let me show you how to make my secret recipe!" She takes Buck by the hand and pulls him into the kitchen, and Eddie smiles, relieved - he'd forgotten that his mother is generally more easily won over than his father, and that Buck is perfectly capable of turning on the charm when he needs to.

He turns to his father. "Papá, I know you don't like it," he says softly. "But Buck is part of this family now."

Ramon sighs, reaching up to palm Eddie's neck and shoulder gently. "I love you, mijo," he murmurs. "I want you to be happy. I worry that this may be a mistake... but it isn't mine to make." He pauses, a little awkwardly, and then says, "He seems perfectly nice."

"He is, Papá," Eddie says with a smile. "He's great with Chris. You'll see."

~*~

Buck, thankfully, knows how to cook, and saves Eddie more than once from burning the turkey, the roast potatoes, and the gravy.

Buck knowing how to cook has also impressed his parents. It feels like they're enacting some sort of a performance, almost - Buck does something and Eddie will slide his gaze nervously to his parents to see how they're reacting, and Pepa will roll her eyes at it.

Buck's not performing. He's on his best behaviour, sure, but he's not performing. He cuts up Christopher's food without Chris even having to ask, makes sure his cup is full, and regularly asks if anyone wants anything else to drink.

"So, Buck," Ramon says, and Eddie grits his teeth as his heart shoots up into his throat. "How did you and my son meet?"

Buck finishes his mouthful before smiling - a little nervously, Eddie realises - and says, "At the garage. Feels like my truck is always broken down, but it hasn't been since I took it to Eddie to get it fixed."

If Eddie looks back he can definitely see where this started to go wrong. First he never told his family he was interested in man (in all fairness, he didn't know either), then he didn't officially introduce them to Buck or mention him, and this is their first time meeting in person. Really, he thinks hysterically, it's his own fault Buck is getting vetted on Christmas Day.

"And what do you do for work, then?"

Buck puffs up the way he always does when someone mentions work, and Eddie's reluctant to use the word cute in the context of a six-foot-two, two-hundred-pound adult male, but... well.

"I'm a firefighter with the LAFD," Buck says.

Ramon looks at Eddie. "That's where this idea to become a firefighter came from, then?"

Eddie puts his knife and fork down; Buck is finally starting to look a little nonplussed. The rest of the table looks tense, and Chris is staring between all of them like he doesn't quite understand what's going on.

"The mechanic thing was never supposed to be permanent, Papá," Eddie says quietly. "I need something more. You know that."

"And what about Christopher?"

Eddie tenses. "What about him?"

"Who's going to look after him while you're following your - following Buck around all day? Have you really thought this through? The mechanic job is stable-"

"It's not enough, Papá," he says stiffly, desperately trying to keep his temper in check.

"And Shannon? Does she-"

"He's not married to that gringa anymore, Ramon," Pepa snaps. "This is not a discussion for the dining table."

"You're right," Ramon says. "This was a discussion to be had over the phone, but here we are-"

"Compórtate niño," Abuela scolds, and the entire table shuts up abruptly. "Has olvidado tus modales? Eres un invitado en la casa de Eddie!"

Buck's eyes are as wide as saucers. He clearly has no idea what was just said, only that Eddie's name was mentioned and that his father is getting a thorough telling-off from his abuela.

"Buck is a lovely man," Abuela continues, in English - probably for Buck's benefit. "We're lucky to have someone who's as good to Eddie and Christopher as he is, and you should be ashamed of how you've treated someone who Eddie invited into his life." She looks at Buck, then, smiling. "We love you, chico dulce," she adds affectionately.

Buck smiles, going a little red in the cheeks. "Thank you, Isabel," he says.

For a moment, there's silence.

"These are lovely potatoes," Helena tries, evidently aiming to break the tension.

"So, Buck," Ramon says, and both Eddie and Pepa hiss disapprovingly through their teeth but he ignores them. "What happens when you get tired of dating a single parent?"

Buck takes a sip of his water. "I'm sorry if this is rude, Mr. Diaz," he says, "but I love Eddie, and I love Chris. I'm not going to ask permission for that. I'd like you to like me... but I don't need you to. I'm here to stay."

It's not said with any particular heat, but there's a bite to Buck's tone Eddie's never heard before - something that suggests Ramon has gotten underneath his skin by questioning his loyalty, a streak of the hot-headed Buck he knows is in there somewhere, tempered with affection and kindness. He knew it existed, but he hadn't seen it before. The message is clear - _back off, or we'll be here all day._

Eddie puts a hand over Buck's, on the table, and smiles at him. Buck smiles back, a little tightly. This, Eddie reflects, may have actually been throwing him to the wolves. Here he thought Pepa would be the biggest obstacle.

"Bravo, mí amor," Abuela says warmly.

Buck stands to take his plate, looks Ramon dead in the eyes, and says, "Do you want a beer?"

For a moment, there's dead silence. Buck and Ramon stare at each other. There's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment where Ramon's eyebrow quirks up, as if to say, _are you serious?_ And Buck's shoulder tilts in response - _take it or leave it; I meant what I said._

"I'll take a beer," Ramon says finally. "You can tell me more about yourself."

"Done," Buck says easily, and leaves the room. Everyone else sits there for a moment, until Buck comes back with two beers and slides one across the table.

"Daddy, can I please be excused?" Chris asks, horrifically polite.

"Of course, mijo."

Eddie clears out the first round of plates and takes them into the kitchen, with his mother following behind. "That was lovely, Eddie," she says, kissing his cheek.

"Thanks, Mamá."

"And that boy!" She beams at him. "What a lovely man. He seems like he really fits in here - with you and with Christopher."

Eddie smiles. "You think so?"

"Oh, definitely. The way he looks at your boy? Like he hung the moon and stars, niño precioso."

"He's great with Chris," Eddie says. "He's - well, it's been rough with Shannon. Chris hates seeing her but he has to go sometimes... Buck is great with it."

"Does he have children?"

"What? No," Eddie laughs. "No, he's just - he's really natural with them. They love him."

"It seems like they aren't the only ones," she teases.

His face heats up, and his heart seems to beat a little faster. "Uh - what?"

"Don't you what me, mijo. I haven't seen you this happy in a very long time. He's good for you. Everyone can see it." She sighs, smiling a little. "Even your father."

Eddie shutters, and he can feel it happening. "Papá made it pretty clear where he stands," he mutters, turning back to the dishwasher.

"Where he stands," Helena says fiercely. "Not us. Not me, not abuela or Josephine. Your father... he's got your best interests at heart, Eddie. This is out of the ordinary for you, and Buck's so young."

"Papá said I should be able to find a woman, that I can't possibly want this and that it's ridiculous," Eddie says. "Like I said, he's made it clear where he stands. What the hell was that at the table? I thought you'd both just be happy that I've finally moved on like you've been begging me to-"

"We are, mi corazón," she murmurs, kissing his cheek. "It's just - not part of his time. It'll take some getting used to. And we really are glad you're happy - we just don't want to see you get hurt."

There's tense silence for a moment. Eddie hears Christopher laugh in the living room.

"Besides," his mother says, "Josephine hasn't called him a gringo once."

Eddie huffs a laugh. "Well, there is that," he says with a smile.

"Eddie!" his father calls.

He enters the dining room with some trepidation, wondering if his boyfriend and father have tried to kill each other yet - only to find them sitting relatively amicably at the table, with Buck leaning back in his chair with his long, gorgeous legs relaxed in front of him, and Ramon leaning on the table. They're both even smiling, even if Ramon's is a little guarded.

"You didn't tell me Buck played football!"

"I didn't know," he answers honestly, head hurting a little from the whiplash.

"Well, we'll have to go to a game sometime," Ramon says to Buck. "I have to say, I don't really understand this gay thing, and I still think he'd be better off with a woman, but my son seems happy and you-" He flails, here, and Buck tilts his head. "Well, you don't give under pressure, that's for sure. You're a good kid."

"Dad, he's not a kid," Eddie groans.

"Thank you, sir," Buck says, a little flushed under the praise. "That means a lot. Eddie and Chris, they make me really happy."

Ramon pats Buck's shoulder as he stands up. "No need to call me sir, Buck," he says. "You can call me Ramon."

With that, he exits the kitchen to join the rest of the family in the living room. Buck beams up at Eddie, all white teeth as blue eyes wrapped in a dorky Christmas sweater Maddie got for him.

"What the fuck?" Eddie asks. "I thought you'd kill each other. What did you do?"

Buck raises his hands. "I was just my charming self, Eddie," he says innocently.

"Did you spike his drink?"

Buck laughs, stands up, and traps him into a kiss, not letting go until it's veering on inappropriate for family lunchtime. He's so warm and so soft Eddie wants to sink into him, except he can't, because there's dishes to be done and dessert to be served.

"Stop distracting me," he mutters, and Buck offers him a winning smile. "I said stop it! Fastidio..."

"Did you just call me a nuisance?" Buck asks indignantly.

"Why is it that the only Spanish you understand are terms of endearment and insults?" Eddie sighs.

Buck shrugs, smiling impishly, and Eddie risks smacking his ass as he walks past. Buck doesn't yelp, but he does jump, and Eddie grins.

It's turned out to be an okay day after all.

~*~

Shannon comes around when everyone else has left.

They'd both agreed that was the best - and least awkward - option. Buck is trying to work out how the crystal growing kit works (it says appropriate for ages ten and up, but by the way Buck is sticking his tongue out in concentration and looking downright alarmed, Eddie's not sure) and Chris has named his Animal Crossing town Zoom Island ("it's what you and Bucky are gonna do in the firetrucks!") when the doorbell rings.

"Chris," Eddie says. "C'mon, your mom's here with your present."

"Okay." Chris gets up readily enough. "I was about to catch a tarantula, Dad."

Eddie blinks. "Well, uh... is that important?"

"If you catch enough you can pay off your entire debt," Buck says distractedly. "They sell for eight thousand Bells."

"Bells? Debt?" Eddie opens his mouth to ask more questions, then closes it. "Okay, uh - well, Mom's here, so you're gonna have to catch a tarantula later, kiddo."

Chris leaves the Switch near Buck, who's turning the instructions one way and the other in an effort to understand them. Eddie opens the door to see Shannon standing there, with a present and a big smile on.

"Merry Christmas," she says.

"Merry Christmas." Eddie doesn't hug her.

She spots Chris and kneels down. "Hi, baby boy!" she coos, pulling him into a hug. "Did you have a good Christmas day?"

"Yeah," Chris says. "Bucky helped me ride my new bike."

Shannon's face falls a little bit. "Buck did, huh? Is he-"

"In the living room," Eddie says stiffly. "How was your Christmas?"

"I spent it with Mom and Dad. They asked about you." She's distracted, though. "That's not important, though - I got your present for you! You wanna go open it?"

"Okay," Chris says, and he even sounds happy, which is great. "We can go to the living room!"

Where Buck is. Eddie's not worried about Buck causing drama, because for all his height and strength he's seen Buck square up to someone exactly once, and that was when he felt Eddie was being threatened. Although, that person was Shannon...

He follows them in, and Chris plops by the couch to open his present. Shannon takes in the wreck of wrapping paper and toys and says, "Wow. He got spoiled this year."

"He needed a bike," Eddie says. "This way he can play with the other kids."

The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Buck stares between them before gathering his legs beneath him and standing. "Uh," he says, "does anyone want hot chocolate?" Which may as well have come out as _please someone give me something to do so I can escape this room._

"I do!" Chris crows.

"Me too," Eddie says, and smiles at Buck as he walks past. "Thanks."

Shannon got Chris more Legos and some zoo passes. Eddie doesn't count how many there are, just smiles as Chris gets excited about seeing all the animals and hugs her. Maybe, he thinks, this can work out. Chris seems happy enough here, in the living room. Maybe they can all get along.

For a while, it goes fine. Buck and Shannon don't exactly interact, but it's nice enough, and Buck waves awkwardly goodbye as Shannon goes to leave. At the door, she says, "So, Chris - do you want to spend the night, maybe tomorrow?"

And Chris - Chris balks like Eddie's trying to drag him to the hospital for surgery. "No," he says, his little voice wobbling.

Something had to have happened, Eddie despairs, only no one will tell him what.

"Well I - I thought maybe we could go to the zoo together, and it's far, so you could sleep over," Shannon wheedles.

"No, I don't want to." Chris is clinging to Eddie's leg now, sniffling.

"But-"

"He said he doesn't want to," Eddie says. He's not about to let his kid cry on Christmas day. "Shannon, can we - this can wait to another time-"

"You always say another time, Eddie, and we haven't had that time yet-"

"It's Christmas," he says, exasperated. "Are you gonna make our kid cry on Christmas?"

"I haven't made him do anything!"

Chris tugs on his pant leg. "I want Buck," he says, voice wobbling and eyes wet as he stares up at Eddie imploringly.

Eddie looks at Shannon. "Wait here," he says, hauling Chris up into his arms and striding into the living room. Buck is standing, evidently having been about to come out and get Chris himself. He was paying attention after all.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, taking Chris from Eddie gently. "What's up?"

Chris buries his face in Buck's neck and says nothing, clinging to him desperately. "Okay," Buck soothes. "Well, we don't gotta talk about it, y'know? How about we try and farm some of those tarantulas together?"

"Okay," Chris sniffs, and Buck gives Eddie a look that so clearly says _I've got your back_ that it bolsters him into action.

He heads back to the front door and steps outside, rubbing his face. "Okay," he says. "This has to stop, Shannon. Whatever happened between you two, he won't tell me, but he clearly doesn't want to be alone with you and I - I'm done making him go."

It's a bold statement. He doesn't know how it'll go over, only that if she could take him to court for custody, she probably would have by now. For whatever reason, she hasn't.

"Eddie, please," she begs. "I really don't know why-"

"I don't really care why," Eddie says, point blank. "I don't need to know why. He cries every month when I have to drop him off and his grades dip around that time. I should've put my foot down a long time ago. He doesn't want to go, and he needs to know that I'll respect his choice and not make him."

"He's a kid, of course he doesn't want-"

"No," Eddie says sharply. "You do not get to pin this on him. He's seven. He used to love going. Something happened, Shannon. If you aren't gonna tell me, I'll ask him. But I won't make him go anymore."

Shannon looks over his shoulder. "Christopher," she calls. "I'm-"

"Okay, you need to leave," Eddie says, firmly, and stands in the doorway for almost five minutes until she finally picks up her things to go. "I'm glad you came. I am. I'm glad you love him. But - it needs to be better than this, Shannon."

"You walked out first, Eddie," she says bitterly.

"I came back," he snaps.

She doesn't have a response for that. He watches as she gets into her car and leaves, then goes back inside, shuts the door, and has to lean against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to collect himself.

When he enters the living room, Chris has stopped sniffling and is curled up on Buck's lap in his dressing gown, the Switch in his hands. Buck looks up and smiles wanly at Eddie, lifts the arm over the back of the couch.

Eddie joins them, sighing as he sinks into the warmth of Buck's body. He takes a few minutes - to breathe; to pay attention to the sinew of Buck's body bracing his, the lift of his flanks as he breathes slowly, the scent of him on the t-shirt he's loaned from Eddie, that imperceptible height difference.

Buck leans down and kisses his temple tenderly. When Eddie looks up, his gaze is rife with concern. "Are you okay?" he whispers.

"I'm fine now." And he is - Chris isn't crying and Buck is here and Eddie isn't alone in it anymore. When he picked Buck's picture from that website, he had no idea he'd end up here, and it hasn't always been a pleasant journey... but now they're warm, indoors, folded up together and things are still looking up, even with the bumps in the road.

He takes a deep breath. "So," he says. "What's this about debt?"

"Tom Nook is a capitalist crook, that's what's about debt," Buck says tartly, surprising Eddie into a peal of laughter. "What? He's charging Chris ninety eight thousand Bells for a tent!"

"Seems a little steep," Eddie agrees seriously. "I - uh, what's that?"

"That's Cube," Buck says. "He's an emperor penguin."

"Wait, where are all the other people?"

"We're the people, Daddy," Chris says.

Eddie blinks at the screen. Sure enough, Chris's avatar is the only human. "So - everything else in this town is an animal?" he asks.

"Well, why else would it be called Animal Crossing?" Buck points out.

"What kind of animal is Tom Nook?"

"A raccoon," Chris says.

"A dirty, cheating, scheming raccoon," Buck says heatedly. "Ninety eight thousand Bells for a tent, Eddie!"

"Okay, okay, wh - what are Bells?"

"Money."

"And - you can sell tarantulas... for Bells?"

"To pay off your loan, yeah."

"The raccoon is a loan shark?"

"Obviously. And his two nephews as well. But they're stupid and they'll buy anything."

"Bucky says it'd be better if we ran a communist town," Christopher says seriously, and Eddie stares at Buck as he winces. "He doesn't like Tom Nook. But I don't know what a communist is."

"That can wait until sixth grade I think," Eddie says dryly. "For now, it's bedtime."

~*~

Buck is gone from the bed.

Eddie blinks, groans, and flicks the lamp on, wincing into the light. Buck is definitely gone from the bed, and his side is cold. He's been gone for a while.

"Buck?" Eddie asks blearily, before sliding out and padding down the hallway. Buck's not in the living room or kitchen, and Chris's room is all quiet, which leaves-

The bathroom.

Eddie sighs. Buck's evidently had a nightmare and gone to hide, or try not to wake Eddie up. He's not really surprised, after Buck saw his and Shannon's little show and the overall stress and excitement of the day - he just wishes Buck would wake him up and let him help.

He pads to the bathroom, where he can see that the door is partially open and the light off. There's a form in the tight spot Buck likes to hide in, and Eddie feels his heart break at the sight of it. How long has Buck been here?

He switches the light on.

Buck's form flinches from it; he blinks awake, startled, and looks up at Eddie. Eddie realises two things right away - that Buck had been fully intending on camping out here all night, if the blanket is anything to go by, and that he doesn't fully know where he is. Eddie's obviously woken him up.

"Easy, Buck," he murmurs, voice sleep-rough as he kneels down. Buck's in his usual spot (Eddie hates that he can even call it that) and doesn't look like he's wanting to come out any time soon. "It's just me."

Buck licks his lips. He tracks Eddie's movement, but it's nervous, like he's shaking off whatever he's dreaming about.

Eddie leans his head against the counter, regarding Buck wearily, happy to maintain distance if that's what Buck needs. "Tuviste una pesadilla?" he asks sleepily.

Buck straightens a little. "What?" he asks timidly.

Eddie realises he was speaking Spanish. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yeah." Buck blinks a few times. "Can you keep speaking Spanish?"

A weird request, but one he can definitely fulfil. It's three in the morning and Eddie grew up speaking Spanish, no matter how proficient he is in English - it's his mother tongue, and the one he defaults to when tired or stressed. "Vas a resfriarte sentada aquí, cariño," he yawns, keeping his eyes trained carefully on Buck's body.

Buck mimics him, putting his head on his knees and blinking blearily.

"Desearía que me dijeras con qué estabas soñado," Eddie murmurs. "Tal vez entonces podría ayudarte..."

Buck shifts. "What time is it?"

"Three," Eddie yawns. Buck seemed to reorient himself quickly, this time, which is something to be grateful for. "Quieres volver a la cama?"

Buck blinks confusedly.

"Sorry," Eddie says, realising he's still speaking Spanish and that Buck really doesn't understand a lot of what he's saying. "Do you want to go back to bed?"

Buck nods, wriggling out from the tight spot between the counter and shower stall and allowing Eddie to help him to his feet. "Sorry," he mumbles. He's looking away like he's ashamed of himself.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, guiding Buck's chin up with his hand. "Are you okay?"

Buck nods.

Eddie smiles sleepily. "No harm done, then. Let's go back to bed. It's cold out." They head back to Eddie's room, where Buck's eyes flit over the things Eddie had brought from his house - and then, to Eddie's surprise, some of his own few scant personal items.

"You know where you are now?" he asks slowly.

"Your house, your bedroom, with you," Buck says. "I'm really sorry, Eddie. This has gotta be getting old for you by now."

But Eddie doesn't really mind. It's not like Buck can help it, or is doing it on purpose to manipulate him. "You went through a traumatic event," Eddie says, guiding them both back under the covers. "I'm not gonna, you know, judge you for it... I'm just glad I can help somehow."

Buck nods. He's silent for a moment, on his back, and Eddie nudges closer with the odd hope of being the little spoon for the remainder of the night. He's never wanted that before in his life, but something about Buck's broad, barrel chest and shoulders does it to him.

"Matt doesn't speak Spanish," Buck murmurs into the darkness. "So when you spoke it just then..."

"You realised it couldn't have been him," Eddie says. "I get it. I'll speak it more often."

Buck turns his head to look at him. His eyes look shiny, but he's very much grounded in reality. "Thanks, Eds," he whispers.

Eddie nods. Then, "What you said at the table today..."

Buck smiles sleepily. "I figured that'd come up sometime. Eddie, you don't have to say it back, man."

"It's just - you've said it twice now and I..."

Buck gives him a short, sweet kiss. "I didn't say it so you'd say it back, Eds," he says softly. "I said it because I wanted you to know and I wanted your family to know. You can say it when you're ready."

Eddie stares at him in the darkness. "Are you even real?" he asks.

Buck huffs a laugh. "People usually ask me that in a different context."

With that, he rolls and bullies Eddie onto his side, tucks him close and slots a leg in between Eddie's. Eddie unashamedly pushes further back into Buck's warmth. Being the little spoon is unexpectedly awesome.

"Oh, I get it," Buck's voice rumbles sleepily. "This is what you _really_ wanted."

"Busted," Eddie says, and Buck huffs a tired, affectionate laugh, presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "Get some rest, Buck. I'll make breakfast in the morning."

"'Kay," Buck yawns, and they're both out like lights.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the love on the last chapter and continued love with past chapters and love language! i'm stoked you guys are loving it :D this chapter is getting released early seeing as my shift changed last minute and i probably won't be able to update tomorrow.
> 
> the picture buck sends eddie is here: https://twitter.com/buddierights/status/1244122097775005696/photo/3 
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

As awesome as it's been to have Buck stay with them, he does have to go home sometime.

He's back to work for the New Year, which Eddie doesn't really celebrate anyway, and he's so excited that Eddie can't feel any trepidation for his return. He aced his physical (Eddie knew he would) and is carefully ironing his shirts a full three days before he's back.

"You'll come back, right, Bucky?" Chris asks anxiously.

"Yeah, of course, dude!" Buck sweeps him up, smiling. "You can come stay with me sometime, how's that sound?"

"Both of us?"

"Well," Buck sighs, rolling his eyes, "I guess your dad can come too."

"Well, now I know you're only dating me for my son," Eddie teases, but kisses him gently nonetheless. "Good luck tomorrow."

"I'll call if I have time," Buck says softly.

"You're gross," Chris complains, squirming free of Buck's arms.

"You're gross," Buck parrots, eliciting a howl of laughter from Chris. "I'm doing some doubles," he says to Eddie apologetically. "If you don't hear from me..."

The last time Buck was working, they were fake-dating. Has it been that long? It feels different, now - he knows that Buck's shifts are mostly routine, but he worries a little anyway.

"I'll assume everything's fine," Eddie says.

The house is quiet without Buck in it, and Eddie finds himself missing him almost immediately. He knows it's way, way too soon to ask Buck to move in, but he really didn't expect the gaping silence in the house, even with Chris present, after having him there for a week.

It sucks enough to make him think about it. Living with Buck. Logistically, it would be easier - bills, halved, travel time almost non-existent, having him there all the time. More selfishly - Buck is a great cook.

But it's too soon. It's only been real for a short amount of time. Or maybe it always was, and Eddie was just the last one to realise it - either way, he values this too much to move quickly.

The phone rings at around seven thirty, just before Chris's bedtime. Buck's name scrolls across the top, completed with a beaming picture of him.

Eddie picks up. "Hey," he says warmly. "You had time to call?"

"Yeah, we're in the truck, just headed back to the 118 for dinner." Buck's voice sounds hoarse, like maybe he's been yelling, but he doesn't sound injured. "Figured I'd call and tell the little guy goodnight."

"Yeah, I'll get him." He finds Chris in the bathroom. "It's for you," he says with a smile.

Chris lights up, takes the phone and says, "Buck?"

Eddie can't hear what Buck's saying, but Chris giggles and they have what seems like an animated, five-minute conversation before Eddie cuts it short. "Alright," he says. "C'mon, bed."

"Will you still read me a story?"

"Of course, mijo. I'll just say bye to Buck."

Chris gets into bed, and Eddie stands outside his bedroom door. "Busy shift?" he asks, casually trying to suss out whether or not Buck is actually okay.

"I'm fine," Buck teases, who clearly knows what he's doing. "It's not that busy. I shouldn't say that though, probably cursed it. Anyway, I'm gonna grab some dinner but... I'll see you sometime this week?"

"Looking forward to it, mí amor," Eddie says softly.

~*~

When he wakes in the morning, it's to a text from Buck.

He opens it before his eyes adjust and blinks at it blearily, until the picture swims into focus - it's Buck, sitting against a fire truck with his legs straight out in front of him, eyes closed and smiling. He's in his turnout gear, minus the jacket, and - God, he looks gorgeous.

**From: Buck, 6:32AM:** successful first shift back! soo sleepy D:

The mention of sleep has Eddie missing Buck's body heat even more than he normally would. It's cold in L.A, and Eddie could've sworn it's not supposed to get this cold, but hell, global warming is totally a thing.

He looks at the time. It's almost seven - time to get up and get Chris ready for his first day back at school, and himself back home for a proper breakfast and coffee.

Chris is never really happy about being woken initially, but after a few pokes he gets out of bed and begins to dress himself. Eddie hesitates, but doesn't help. Chris needs to be able to do this on his own, or he'll never learn.

He gets Chris off to school and heads home - it's a Monday, but he's traded to have the day off and work some extra hours over the rest of the week, when Chris will be at after school activities or Buck at work.

There's footprints tracking up to the house when he gets there, and he freezes. It's only a little mud, but it's facing towards the door instead of away from it. When he tries the knob, though, it's locked, and he looks around.

He softens when he sees Buck's truck parked nearby, and, grinning, heads quietly into the house. Buck isn't on the couch or in the kitchen, and Eddie toes his shoes off quietly before peeking into his bedroom.

The curtains are drawn, and Buck has managed to wrap himself in Eddie's duvet enough that only his head pokes out. He's curled in a ball, breathing softly, clearly asleep or almost asleep.

_He came here_ , Eddie realises, breathless. _He worked a double shift and drove half an hour out of the way to come here_. And, more importantly - Buck must have used his key, which means he's comfortable, which means he knows he's safe here.

Eddie's throat tightens. He peels his jeans off quietly and strips to his boxers and t-shirt, then pulls back the covers gently. He doesn't need to go back to sleep - but he's happy to be close.

Buck's eyelashes flutter. "Eddie?" he mumbles.

"Hey," Eddie whispers. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Come here."

Buck shuffles closer, tucking himself close to Eddie's body. "Hmm, you're frozen," Eddie murmurs, rubbing his back. Buck's wearing a long-sleeved but thin t-shirt and boxers, and his feet are cold where he presses them against Eddie's shins. "Just get in?"

"Mm." Buck rubs his nose at the base of Eddie's throat. "Work?"

"I have the day off. How's your leg?"

"S'fine."

"Good. Go back to sleep, okay?"

He doesn't get an answer. Buck's gone to sleep right there, in his arms, with Eddie rubbing his back gently. Eddie's eyes are definitely not a little wet over it, at all. It's just - well, Buck trusts him, and that's something Eddie wasn't sure he'd get back, or even deserved.

He waits until he's certain Buck's asleep deeply, drifting in and out a little himself, before carefully leaving the bed and going to make some breakfast. There are jobs that need to be done - Christmas decorations to come down, toys to clean up, laundry to do. It never really seems to end, although it feels nicer when he knows Buck is asleep in his bed.

Sometime around lunch, Buck rouses and stumbles out into the living room, blinking blearily. "Hey, sleeping beauty," Eddie teases.

Buck rubs his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Lunch-ish. You didn't sleep long."

"I got a bit at the station," Buck yawns. "Hey, thanks for not freaking out. I kind of wasn't thinking, I should've asked-"

"I gave you a key for a reason, Buck," Eddie says gently, giving Buck a quick kiss. "Besides, it was nice to come home to you. You were freezing."

"Yeah." Buck yawns. "Hard to get warm and stay warm sometimes, if we aren't moving much during the shift. Not much happening towards the end, morning crew came in late..." He smiles. "Still wanna join?"

"We can snuggle in the bunks together," Eddie says dryly, and Buck's grin widens.

"I can be down with snuggling in bunks."

"Sure, risk our jobs for some canoodling."

"Ugh, Eddie, canoodling? What are you, two hundred?" He stretches, and something cracks horrifically loud. "Have you heard about your interview?"

"Yeah, late yesterday. I forgot to tell you. It's in a fortnight."

"That's soon!" Buck says encouragingly. "Once you pass the interview you've got this, Eds. It's pretty daunting but the rest of it - well, the rest is okay. I mean, I passed everything and I still have trouble with multiplication."

Eddie smiles, patting Buck's chest. "You don't need multiplication to save lives," he says. "You can do it by being brave."

If Buck had feathers, he'd be preening them right now. "Exactly," he almost purrs. "You'll be fine."

Buck has lunch with him, then heads home to shower, change, and work out before headed back to work. He's already begun to pack on muscle again, which is a huge relief - while he'd managed to gain a little back while healing up from surgery, he hadn't managed to get it all. Now he's eating and generally seems healthier, which Eddie can definitely get behind.

When it's time, he goes to pick up Christopher. He finds his kid at the gate with Liam, who smiles and waves at Eddie eagerly.

God, he's a sweet kid. Eddie hopes the teachers have taken on board what he told them, or - done something with it, at least. He can't stand the idea of Liam being trapped in a place that might be abusive, but short of just kidnapping him he doesn't know what to do.

"Dad!" Chris says, hugging his legs.

"Hi, mijo! Hey, Liam."

"Hi, Mr. Diaz," Liam smiles.

"Dad, can Liam come over this weekend?" Chris asks eagerly. "I told him about the crystal growing kit Buck got me for Christmas! We wanna try it together."

"I'll have a look at my roster," Eddie says, perfectly happy to have Liam over if it means keeping that bright smile on his face. He's not sure when he started to not mind giving up his weekends alone with Christopher - but it's nice either way. "How about I call your mom and let her know when I know?"

"Okay," Liam says cheerfully. "Will Buck be there?"

Eddie doesn't see why not, short of him working weird hours. "I'll ask him."

They both cheer, which is nice for all of five seconds until Liam's mom shows up to get him, and he withdraws almost immediately. Chris even hugs him goodbye.

"Hey Dad?" he asks on the way back to the car.

"Yeah?"

Chris chews on his lip. "Liam gets sad going home like Buck gets sad about his mom," he says finally. "We fixed it for Buck, right? So how come we can't fix it for Liam?"

Eddie doesn't know how to explain this one. That some hurts run deep and infinite, even if they are manageable, and that pain isn't always a bad thing, or something to be avoided. He doesn't know how to explain to Chris that Liam will always feel the pain of his father hurting him the same way Buck will remember losing his mother. He doesn't know how to do it without giving the wrong impression that nothing can be fixed, either.

He wishes Buck were here to help him out, inexplicably. He's done fine so far on his own - maybe even great.

"Some fixes just take longer than other fixes," is what he ends up going with. "Buck's mom died when he was little. He's had a lot of time to be fixed. And you're really good at it, too." Chris beams, and Eddie ruffles his hair. "We'll help Liam, Chris. We will."

~*~

He's in bed that night when his phone rings.

It's Buck, and Eddie answers even though he's sleepy. "Hey," he says.

"Hey." Buck sounds tired too. "What're you doing?"

"In bed," Eddie says. "You had time to call again?"

"I'm in the bunks," Buck replies, his voice all soft. "I'm trying to sleep but I miss you."

Eddie smiles. It used to scare him, how open and vulnerable and guileless Buck is with his feelings, that heart on his sleeve where people can put pins in it. Now, he looks at it and thinks - Buck's been on this planet twenty-six years and survived all that and still lets people in. Selflessly, he gives.

"I miss you too," he replies.

"Really?" Buck sounds pleased.

"Yeah. You're a pretty good heater. Bed is cold."

"Mmm. Bunks are cold too."

"Don't get sick, okay?" Eddie asks. "What's your roster like this weekend?"

"I finish up around midday on Saturday, then not back until Monday morning," Buck says. "Why?"

"Chris wants Liam to come over. Their special request is that you're also present."

"Really? They want me there?" Buck sounds surprised, but happy. "Yeah, man, of course."

"If you've got other-"

"No, I wanna spend time with you and the kids," Buck says. "Can't think of anything better."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it. Buck wants in on his little family and all its drama, has since the get-go - it's like he looked at Eddie and Chris and just decided they were his people, and that he'd do anything for them. "They wanna try that crystal kit," he says weakly.

"Hey, Eddie?" Buck asks softly.

"Yeah?"

"What do _you_ want?"

God, so many things. A house big enough for the three of them and maybe to even cave and get that puppy Chris has been begging for. A little life, nothing special, just enough. For it to be cold outside and Buck to be warm and golden blonde in his bed. But it's hard to put into words, this early on, when he's still a little scarred from Shannon and giving too much too quickly.

"I want you here," Eddie admits, aloud. "Which is dumb. You were here before. And I know you're working. But that's what I want."

There's a long silence. Then, "It's not dumb, Eddie," whispered into the phone.

They don't say anything else. Eddie falls asleep to Buck's quiet breathing on the line, not feeling quite as lonely knowing that Buck is only across town, in a bunk, thinking about Eddie the way Eddie is thinking about him.

It'll be easier in the morning anyway.

~*~

When he wakes, it's dark out, freezing, and the bed is dipping.

He's on high alert for a moment, until a large, warm hand lands gently on his ribcage and whispers, "Sorry, Eds," and the smell of Buck's aftershave - something crisp and clean - settles over him.

"Buck?" he asks blearily.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I was trying to be quiet." The bed stops moving; Buck scoots in, presses himself up against Eddie's back, and wraps an arm over him, nudging until Eddie lifts his head so that he can work the other underneath him. He's chilled again, but he's powerfully muscular behind Eddie, thick thighs cradling his own and his barrel chest breathing gently against Eddie's back.

"You're cold again," Eddie mumbles. "Need a better jacket."

"Okay, Dad," Buck whispers teasingly. He presses a kiss to the back of Eddie's neck. "Go back to sleep."

"I'm glad you're here," Eddie says.

"Me too."

~*~

He wakes again to his alarm - probably not a lot later - and immediately switches it off, wanting Buck to be able to sleep.

Buck is still wrapped around him, dead to the world. The force of his curls has forced the gel in his hair out of place again, and he looks a good five years younger than what he really is.

Eddie sits up, palms his cheek softly. Buck sighs in his sleep. He's shirtless, and Eddie's sudden, desperate need for skin-to-skin contact has to give way to the need to get Chris up and ready for school, and himself for work.

He remembers, then, what he said last night. "I want you here," he'd said, and less than ten hours later, Buck made it happen. Maybe he doesn't need to worry about expressing his wants. Maybe Buck will hear him and not flinch away.

He kisses Buck's forehead gently before leaving the bed, then goes to wake Chris. Chris is immediately excited by the prospect of Buck being there - which Eddie has to tell him so Chris will keep it down - and insists on kissing Buck goodbye before school.

"Quiet, mijo," Eddie whispers as he lifts Chris up onto the bed.

Chris kisses Buck clumsily on the cheek, his little hand braced against Buck's shoulder. "Goodbye Bucky," he whispers sweetly. "I love you."

"Hmm," Buck mumbles, lifting one arm to drag Chris in for a clumsy hug. "Love you too, kiddo."

God, Eddie is going to die of cuteness overload. He's been to Afghanistan and seen some shit and watching his boyfriend interact with his kid will be the end of him.

"I'm going to work," he whispers to Buck. "Breakfast in the kitchen."

He's not sure if Buck heard, because he seems to be asleep again, but that's okay. Buck's on a day shift soon, which means they can spend the evening together.

Eddie can't wait.

~*~

His phone pings later that afternoon.

He takes it out, finds a waiting text from Buck. When he opens it, it's a picture of Buck in his turnout gear, minus his helmet, with soot all over his face and neck.

**From: Buck, 1:31PM:** someone should really tell people not to light matches in front of aerosol cans >:(

Eddie smiles.

**To: Buck, 1:31PM:** Those people keep you in a job

**From: Buck, 1:32PM:** there should be an idiot tax

Eddie laughs aloud at that. Sometimes, Buck surprises him with how vehemently and stubbornly he believes in his ideas.

**To: Buck, 1:34PM:** Now who sounds like the raccoon from Chris's game?

His phone pings several times in quick succession a few minutes later, and he looks around to make sure his boss isn't watching before picking up his phone again.

**From: Buck, 1:39PM:** WOW

**From: Buck, 1:39PM:** THAT'S THE MEANEST THING ANYONE HAS EVER SAID TO ME

**From: Buck, 1:39PM:** I WOULD NEVER BE THAT CAPITALIST SHITFUCK RACCOON

**From: Buck, 1:39PM:** HE LITERALLY STEALS FROM THE POOR EDDIE IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK OF ME

He laughs, startled and pleased at how quickly Buck responded and - well, it's nice that they're joking around, more and more on equal footing every day.

**To: Buck, 1:41PM:** I never thought I would ever hear anyone say "capitalist shitfuck raccoon" Buck. You really do surprise me every day

**From: Buck, 1:41PM:** well don't say I don't bring anything to ur life >:(

_Te amo,_ Eddie almost types back, but he stops himself. He's not about to tell Buck he loves him for the first time over text message.

It can wait until they're talking in person.

~*~

Buck shows up at his house at six in the evening two nights later, looking tired but happy to see Eddie.

He's swung by almost every morning to crawl into bed with Eddie, but that's all they've had time for - a few stolen words when they both wake up, and then by the time Eddie gets home Buck has been at work. He feels bad that Buck isn't using his own bed, but he can't say he's sorry that he's woken up every morning to the sensation of Buck glomming onto him like a needy koala.

Maybe he'll get tired of it one day. He can't see it happening anytime soon, though.

Eddie has to admit he's a little touch-starved. He's gotten used to Buck's gentle, coaxing affection, and the way he's so receptive to Eddie's words and his body language. They also haven't done anything more than share a quick, chaste peck every now and then, because they both need the sleep.

But Chris is at abuela's tonight, and tomorrow morning, and Eddie's working an afternoon shift tomorrow. So for now, he's happy to lean back in the couch and Buck doesn't hesitate - kicks his shoes off and crawls up between Eddie's legs like he's supposed to be there and kisses him deeply, nibbling a little on Eddie's lower lip.

"Jesus, Buck, I missed you," Eddie murmurs, rucking Buck's shirt up at the back to press his hands into Buck's skin. "You all good? You're not hurt anywhere?"

"No," Buck mumbles - he's worshipping Eddie's neck, currently, sliding up nice and close. "You want my shirt off?"

"Stupid question," Eddie says, and Buck sits up momentarily to strip his shirt, leaning upwards in a way that displays every muscle in his upper body. He's not built like Eddie at all - Eddie's sharp and defined, where Buck's muscles are smooth, a lot bigger than Eddie's admittedly, and carries a lot more power in his chest.

Eddie lets his hands slide up Buck's chest, and Buck shivers under his touch. His nipples peak with interest. "Yours too?" he asks hopefully.

Eddie smiles. "Thought you'd never ask."

Soon enough, they're both shirtless, and Eddie sighs as Buck presses up to him. This is what he's been craving all week - prolonged skin to skin contact, Buck's scent all over him, Buck in general all over him.

It peters out before really going anywhere, and Buck makes them dinner - Eddie wants to but really, his cooking isn't great and Buck knows that by now. They settle in to watch something, have a video call with Christopher, and by ten, they're tired.

"We're old, Eddie," Buck complains.

"I'm old. You're in the prime of your life."

"Never say that again. Any of it." Buck crawls into bed with him, yawning hugely, and shuffles until he's more or less draped over Eddie's body. "Hmm. Nice going to bed with you, Eds."

Eddie smiles, rubbing Buck's back. "Yeah."

~*~

When he wakes, it's to the realisation that Chris is staying at his abuela's, and that he's still tucked up in Buck's embrace.

The second realisation is largely inspired by the fact that Buck is rutting against Eddie's hip sleepily, his cock deliciously hard. He's not moving with a great deal of purpose, and his breathing is still fairly even. Asleep, then.

He rolls, very slightly, just enough to get his hand down Buck's underwear and wrap a hand confidently around his dick. Buck groans, pushing upwards.

"Eddie," he mumbles.

It's nice to know that Buck's dreaming about him, anyway. He strokes slowly, lazily, waiting for Buck to join him in the land of the living and appreciate being woken up with a hand job.

It doesn't take long - Buck's eyes flutter open after only a thirty-second lapse, and he takes Eddie in for a moment, sleepily, blushing when he realises the predicament he's in.

Eddie rubs his thumb over the head of Buck's dick. Buck's hips shift, and he bites his lip around a moan, his eyes sleepily startled. This, Eddie marvels, might be one of his favourite Buck expressions. "Good morning," Eddie says pleasantly.

Buck all but whimpers. "I'll say."

"You wanna come here?" Eddie reels him in. "Come closer."

"I have morning breath-"

"So do I, I don't care." He brushes Buck's lips with his, gently, and Buck caves almost immediately, lets Eddie kiss him until they're both panting into it. Buck's legs fall open a little more, supple with sleep and pleasure, and Eddie slides between them.

"Chris-"

"Is at abuela's, remember?" Eddie murmurs.

"Oh, God," Buck moans.

"Are you gonna come for me?" Eddie asks, softly, pressing a line of open-mouthed kisses down Buck's jaw.

"If you say I can," Buck rasps back, and - hang on. Eddie gets whiplash, momentarily, because what? What is that? He looks up, but Buck only looks flushed with desire, blue eyes smouldering at him, not like this is some more residual fucked up trauma.

Buck wants Eddie to tell him what to do. Cause. Eddie is suddenly harder than he's ever been in his life. Effect.

"You're gonna be the death of me," Eddie groans, rolling his hips into Buck's. "But what a way to go."

"Whatever, whatever," Buck mumbles, chasing his lips. "Wanna try something new?"

A little thrill shocks Eddie's stomach. Buck's holding him close by the shoulders, arm strong and shoulders broader than Eddie knows what to do with, and he's still rutting up into Eddie's hand lazily, his own spare one wandering.

"Like what?" Eddie asks.

Buck pulls away a little, to look at his face. "You wanna try fingering me?" he murmurs huskily.

Eddie's brain shorts out. He's - he's thought about it, before, what it might mean and what he could do to Buck, but he never in a million years expected Buck to offer.

"I'm all clean," Buck murmurs into his neck - he's started nibbling at the little patch of skin that drives Eddie fucking crazy. "Just for you."

"Jesus Christ, Buck," Eddie says weakly. "I'm only human."

He feels Buck grin. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes." Eddie rolls on top of him, pins one hand above his head. Buck grins up at him, tilting his head back like he's challenging Eddie to something. "Dios, Buck, as if I was ever gonna say no."

"Consent is important," Buck says innocently, his eyes following Eddie hungrily as Eddie reaches into the side table for some lube.

"I'm gonna wipe that smile off your face," Eddie warns, which only causes it to widen cheekily. "I mean it. You'll be begging by the time I'm done."

"What, like it's hard to make me beg?" Buck asks.

"Fair point." He pulls at Buck's boxers. "I think you need to take these off," he says seriously.

Buck grins, shucking out of his boxers quickly and treating Eddie to the sight of his body in the morning light - his cock is hard against his stomach, thighs deliciously flexed. He stretches languidly and unselfconsciously beneath Eddie's gaze.

Eddie has a wicked idea, then, as he takes Buck's dick and strokes it once, gently, gratified by the way Buck's hips rise to meet him. "How many times can you come?" he asks softly.

Buck licks his lips. "How many times can you make me?"

That's a challenge if Eddie ever heard one. He slicks his fingers up with some lube, hesitating before going anywhere near Buck's ass.

"You'll tell me if it hurts?"

"Yeah, of course." Buck wriggles. "Just don't poke me really hard and we'll be good."

Eddie inches down, stroking Buck's cock again, thumbs the bead of precome at the tip. Buck sighs, leans his head back, hips working up a little before settling.

Eddie rubs the lube between his fingers to warm it up, then finds Buck's entrance. He smooths his index finger over Buck's hole and Buck surprises him by moaning.

"You're a tease."

"Shut up," Eddie says pleasantly, pressing a little. "Does this feel good?"

"Hmm, so good."

Eddie doesn't really know how this works. Buck's his first boyfriend and his understanding of this is that the prostate feels good and that he'll have to go slow. He tried watching porn, which wasn't helpful, and tried Googling it, which lead him to a Wikihow article filled with vaguely disturbing images and left him thinking he was probably just better off asking Buck.

He presses, and his finger slips in as Buck relaxes. Buck sighs softly and pulls Eddie in for a clumsy, lazy kiss.

At least they're not focussing too hard. Eddie's surprised by how tight Buck is around him, that he seems to be enjoying it if the gentle, unhurried rocking of his hips is anything to go by.

"Up," Buck mumbles into his mouth, and it takes Eddie a moment but he eventually realises what Buck wants and crooks his finger upwards, curiously.

For a moment, nothing happens - then Buck shifts down and Eddie moves and Buck gasps "There," into his mouth, legs widening a little to allow Eddie to move better.

Now Eddie gets it. Buck's kissing him much more fervently now, whimpering into his mouth and clawing at him hard enough that he might leave scratches. And Eddie - Eddie doesn't even care, because he feels like he just found the gold at the end of the rainbow.

He crooks his finger again, memorising the spot. Buck keens, and Eddie grins. "I think I found it," he teases.

"Shut up," Buck moans. "Stop teasing me, man." His hands move to Eddie's boxers, shoving them out of the way in his haste to get to Eddie's cock. He pulls, gently, and the sight of him doing it while he's fucking himself on Eddie's fingers is enough to fill his dick up almost immediately.

"Do you like this?" he asks.

"Yeah," Buck breathes. "Do you?"

"Mm." Eddie sinks closer, letting Buck stroke him and nosing at the pulse point in his neck. He smells strongest here, his own scent mixed with whatever lingering cologne he has on. "Yeah, you feel amazing. Be nice to feel you around my dick."

Buck's hole clenches down on him, and he tips his head until his cheek is pressed against Eddie's. "Keep talking like that and I'll come," he groans.

"Isn't that the point?"

"Yeah, but it's too soon-"

"Remember that time you told me I could have a raincheck?"

A long pause. "Um - yeah?" Buck's breathless, still moving against Eddie's hand; Eddie targets that spot in him again just to hear him swear and whimper as he pushes down again.

"Well, I'm gonna take a raincheck later, before we go get Chris. Deal?"

"Okay," Buck breathes. "But I - oh, fuck, Eddie-"

"You can come for me, precioso," Eddie murmurs, working his spare hand between them to grasp Buck's dick. He pulls upward, a gentle movement really, and thumbs teasingly at the head of Buck's cock, where it's wet with precome.

Buck tilts sideways, capturing his mouth in a kiss, and Eddie thrusts with his fingers once more before he feels Buck jerk in his grip and come, splattering Eddie's hand and his belly and chest with it. This time, it's accompanied by the brand new sensation of Buck's hole clamping down on him as well, which is enough to send Eddie over the edge too - the orgasm he hadn't entirely released was building spills over, and his own come joins Buck's, with Buck's fingertips teasing him lightly as he slows his pace.

He withdraws his fingers gently, pressing a conciliatory kiss to Buck's chin when he sees him wince a little. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Just been a while." Buck smiles up at him dopily. "That was great."

"You seem happy enough," Eddie teases, then gets up to retrieve something to clean them off with. He cleans himself up in the bathroom - twists a little to see that, sure enough, Buck did leave marks on his shoulder when he scratched - and takes a washcloth back to Buck.

"I was kinda surprised you wanted to," Buck admits. "I didn't know how you'd take it."

"Once I'm all in, I'm all in," Eddie says, wiping Buck's stomach and chest down.

Buck grins slyly. "Literally. It's butt stuff, though-"

"Okay, yeah, when you call it "butt stuff" it sounds-"

Buck laughs, and he sounds so happy that it sort of steals Eddie's breath away, and he strokes Buck's hair back a little and gazes down at him and thinks about Matt who hurt him and Abby who ghosted him and Ali who abandoned him and just doesn't get it. He just doesn't understand why anyone-

But he was nearly one of those people. Because he was too scared to admit how he felt, even to himself.

"What are you thinking?" Buck asks curiously. He's gazing up at Eddie with the light reducing his pupils to pinpricks, and Eddie doesn't really know how to say what he was actually thinking, so he just says, "I'm glad you took my dumb ass back," and Buck smiles, then sighs in an overwrought, put-upon manner and says,

"I suppose I am too... even if you can't cook."

~*~

Chris is delighted to see Buck when they go to get him from school, and Buck doesn't have work until Monday, so they can relax as a unit together tonight.

Buck is treated to a hug at the gate from Chris - and Liam, who's a little shyer about it but gives into it when Buck squeezes him tightly - and about seven other children who recognise him as "Mr. Diaz's special friend". It takes them ten minutes just to get out of there.

"You're a celebrity," he teases as they get into the car.

"What?" Buck is happily flushed. "Oh! Yeah, I love kids."

"But I'm your favourite, right?" Chris asks, sounding a little worried.

Buck turns in the front seat, grinning. "You'll always be my favourite, pal."

They head inside once they get back, with Eddie going to make a late lunch and Chris and Buck immediately getting on the Switch. Eddie has a screentime system set up, and he has total faith that Buck will adhere to it... while Chris is watching, anyway.

Soon enough, he's distracted from sandwich-making by the sounds of Chris squealing with laughter, abandons his task, and walks into the living room to figure out what's going on. Chris is on the couch, hands at his face and a wide grin on it, and Buck is sitting cross-legged at the coffee table, where Chris can peer over his shoulder.

"What are we laughing at?" Eddie asks a shrieking Christopher.

"Bucky ran into a mean villager," Chris giggles. "He told him his clothes were ugly so Buck hit him with a net."

Eddie rubs the bridge of his nose, looking over at Buck. He's furiously red and biting his tongue, and there are angry little blips coming from the Switch (this, Eddie has somehow come to know, is the sound the characters make when they're annoyed). "Buck," he says patiently. "You're an adult. You can't possibly be annoyed about-"

"First this capitalist raccoon takes all our hard-earned Bells for a freakin' _tent_ and now the villagers are dragging my fashion sense! And we got attacked by a tarantula on tarantula island! Someone has to pay for this!"

"There's a wise saying," Eddie says, biting back a grin at Buck's theatrics, "that says not to punish the masses for the mistakes of a few. Also, I feel like you probably should've seen the tarantula attack coming."

"They're all mistakes!" Buck spits, which causes Chris to just about keel over laughing. "This idiot frog is calling my outfit ugly and he's not even wearing _pants_!"

"Chris, what did we learn from this?" Eddie asks.

"That Bucky doesn't like it when frogs don't wear pants?"

"No," Eddie says, and Chris giggles. "We learned that we can't just hit people with nets because we don't agree with what they're saying."

"They're not people, Daddy," Chris says patiently. "They're animals."

"You'll be pleased to know that I've at least revised my opinions of the Nook Nephews," Buck mutters. "I've decided they're just victims of their uncle's scheming. They're children. I can't hold children responsible for the actions of an adult, Eddie."

"Buck says Timmy and Tommy are just - um, Buck, what was it?"

"I don't think your dad needs to know what I said about Timmy and-"

"Slave labour!" Chris remembers, beaming.

"Okay, give me that," Eddie says, swiping the Switch from Buck. "No more teaching Chris bad lessons about neighbourly behaviour. Also, I'm pretty sure the game isn't programmed to let you stage a coup d'état, so-"

"The frog had it coming," Buck mumbles belligerently.

"Why are you on this anyway? Do I need to get you your own?"

"Buck was helping me catch tarantulas so I can pay off my debt," Chris says seriously.

"Why does this game teach children about debt, and how to get into it?" Eddie asks. "Are you gonna go out and try to catch tarantulas now, mijo?"

Chris considers. "Could I sell them for eight thousand dollars?"

Buck stares at him, horrified. "Okay," he says. "Eddie, you're right. I'm teaching him bad things. Take it away from me."

"Does it have to be tarantulas?" Eddie asks helplessly. "Can't it be... I dunno, can't it be fish? Are there fish in this game?"

"Of course there are fish. You're on an island surrounded by water, trapped by a business mogul racoon and his two idiot nephews and judgmental little animals," Buck grumbles. "Especially Ursula and Camofrog, _God_ they're the worst..."

Eddie picks Chris up, who's still giggling at Buck's antics. "Do you think maybe Buck is overly invested in Zoom Island, Chris?" he asks seriously, and Chris nods, clinging to Eddie happily.

"C'mon, does he even know what invested means?" Buck whines. "Chris, back me up here, man!"

"If he knows what debt is he may as well know what investment is," Eddie says dryly. "Maybe he'll become a banker."

"No, Daddy," Chris laughs. "I wanna be a firefighter like you and Buck."

Eddie's always told his kid he could do anything and so maybe this is his fault, but it's hard to swallow - one day he'll have to tell Chris the opposite, he'll have to manage his expectations, but he's seven, and-

"Uh, you said you wanted to be a doctor the other day, kiddo," Buck says, grinning in a way that looks a little strained. "What happened to that?"

"It's too much school," Chris complains. "Maybe I could be a teacher? Or a cook?"

"Those are both awesome jobs too," Buck says seriously. "There's tons of stuff you can do that's awesome."

Chris grins. "I could be a loan shark," he giggles.

"Chris, don't follow in Tom Nook's footsteps!" Buck despairs, giving Chris exactly the reaction he was looking for. "He's a thieving raccoon preying on the innocent and vulnerable!"

"Maybe I'll be Robin Hood."

"That's better."

~*~

Buck makes dinner - Chris basically begs him to - which ends up being some kind of braised beef something that is far beyond any of Eddie's capabilities. Still, the math homework is left up to Eddie - Buck is terrible at math, as evidenced when Chris asks what six times six is and Buck somehow comes up with ninety-four - and bathtime is also Eddie's gig.

When Chris is out of the bath, he says, "Can I have a story from Buck tonight, Dad?"

"I'm sure he'd love to read you a story." Eddie knows he would, too - Buck gets really animated with children's books, putting on voices and accents and often abandoning the actual book in favour of dramatic enactments of what's on the page. "I'll go find him, okay?"

"Okay," Chris says sweetly, kissing his cheek.

Eddie heads back out into the kitchen, where Buck's started to do the dishes. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Eddie grabs a nearby towel and flicks him with it.

Buck jumps. "Hey," he whines. "What was that for?"

"Doing dishes when you cooked," Eddie teases. "That's my job."

"You were with Chris." Buck puts the pan on the rack to dry. "He asleep?"

"Nah, he's waiting for _his Buck_ to read him a bedtime story," Eddie says with a smile, noting the way Buck's whole face lights up at the idea of being requested. "I'll finish up if you're fine with that."

"Course," Buck says cheerfully, bounding off to go read to Christopher.

Eddie does the dishes, then makes them both hot chocolate. It's still cool enough outside to warrant it - Buck had made a vague reference to missing white Christmases, but also admitted it was nice to not have to shovel the driveway just to do the grocery shopping.

He's sitting on the couch when Buck comes out, and is ready to tease the guy for how long it took him to re-enact a children's story book when he sees the look on his face.

"Buck?" he asks. "Is everything okay?"

Buck takes a deep breath, sits beside him on the couch. "No," he says. "Chris told me what happened. Uh - why he doesn't want to see Shannon."

Eddie's heart jumps up into his throat somewhere. "What?"

"He made me promise not to tell you," Buck says, and for a moment - a very brief, ugly moment - Eddie sees red, and is about to tell Buck he has no business hiding things from him, especially where his son is concerned, but then Buck continues shakily, "but you need to know."

"Buck," Eddie says, because Buck's face looks broken open and vulnerable the same way it did when he confessed how he felt to Eddie the first time - his eyes are huge and his mouth is a little open and his eyebrows are drawn up and the entire look makes him seem like he'd rather die than tell Eddie what happened.

"Eddie she..." Buck looks down, swallowing. "She was seeing someone for a while," he hedges, and Eddie's first thought about that is that she's a hypocrite for sure. "She had Chris one night... Chris had an accident. Couldn't get to the bathroom fast enough."

That's not all, though, and he knows by the way Buck is hesitating that it isn't.

"The guy wasn't happy and gave him a good smack round the face," Buck finishes, voice shaking. "Called him a cripple."

It's really hard to say what he's feeling in that moment. A lot of stuff happens - he thinks, I didn't know Shannon was seeing anyone, and I didn't know Shannon had introduced Chris to anyone, and Chris didn't tell me about this guy. Then he thinks, Chris didn't tell me any of this. Any of it.

"Eddie, man, don't," Buck says desperately, and Eddie realises he's up and searching for his keys and jacket. "If you go over there this angry it's gonna end badly, _wait_!"

Buck raises his voice at the end - out of desperation, not anger - but Eddie's never heard him raise his voice like that and it breaks through the red fog settled over his brain.

"You should talk to Chris," Buck hedges, seeing that he's got Eddie's attention. "He didn't want to tell you because he didn't want to make you sad."

If there's anything Eddie's learned about raising a kid, it's that you have to remove the temptation for them to lie. So when he goes in, he doesn't start with, "Will you tell me what you told Buck?" he starts with, "Buck told me what happened."

Chris looks devastated. "I made him promise not to tell you!"

"Buddy," Eddie murmurs, sliding close and pulling Chris into his body, "Buck had to tell me. I know you wanted to keep it a secret but it's really important, you know?"

Chris doesn't answer.

"Hey," Eddie says. "How would you feel if someone was hurting Buck, and he told you, but he made you promise not to tell me?"

Chris is quiet, but this time, his expression is pensive, like he's thinking about it. "I'd be scared," Chris admits finally. "'Cause I'm not big enough to help him."

"And what would you do?"

"I'd tell you, Daddy."

"Even if he made you promise? And you thought he'd be mad?"

"Bucky doesn't get mad," Chris protests, which is really not the point Eddie was trying to make. "But... I'd tell you, Dad. I would."

"Well, that's what Buck had to do, mijo. Please don't be angry at him. He's trying to help." Eddie rubs Chris's arm. "Chris... what Buck told me..."

Chris shifts. "I just don't like Mommy's boyfriend," he says quietly. "He was really mean to me."

"Did you tell Mommy?"

"I told her he called me a - a-"

"You don't have to say it, mijo," Eddie says, his throat tight. "Did you tell her he hit you?"

"No," Chris says, voice small. "He - he said she wouldn't believe me and that if - if I told you you'd be mad and Mom would take me away from you."

"Okay." Eddie thinks about his next question. "What did Mom do when you told her?"

"She - she yelled at him lots," Chris sniffles. "Daddy, I'm sorry I lied."

"What?" Eddie breathes.

"You - you asked me if something bad happened," Chris says, curling his hands into Eddie's t-shirt. Eddie holds him tighter. "And I said no. I lied. I'm sorry."

"Christopher," Eddie says, and his voice really does break here. "God, buddy, I don't care that you lied, okay? But you need to know if - if stuff like this happens, and you tell me, I won't - I don't have to make you go anymore, kiddo."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can Buck come in here?"

Eddie raises his head, wondering if Buck is somewhere near the doorway and might've overheard - but he isn't. Giving them privacy, undoubtedly, and maybe a little worried that Chris will hate him for telling Eddie what happened.

"Buck?" he calls.

Footsteps, and Buck appears in the doorway. Eddie tries to smile. "You wanna come in here?" he asks, even as Chris reaches out and sort of explains why they're there anyway.

Buck comes in quietly, settles where Chris can lean on him as well if he chooses, and puts an arm around him. It's a little cramped on Chris's bed, but they'll manage. "Hey, buddy," he says softly. "Sorry I had to tell your dad."

"It's okay," Chris sniffles.

For a moment, they're all quiet. Buck meets Eddie's eyes over Christopher's head, his own a little wet and sad. Eddie knows at least a little of what Buck went through with his own father, and thinks maybe that might play into it.

"Dad, I only lied 'cause Mom said if you knew you would never get back together," Chris says, muffled, into Buck's shirt. He's transferred over to lean on Buck's chest, and is tracing the line of Buck's tattoo. "And I thought if - if you got back together he would go away. But now we have Buck. I don't want you to go back to Mom. I want Buck."

Eddie takes a few minutes to try and swallow down all his emotions. "Uh, well," he says, and when his voice sounds steady enough, he continues. "I want Buck too. I'm not gonna get back with Mom, Chris."

Chris relaxes into Buck's chest. "Okay," he says tiredly.

"And you don't have to go to Mom's," Eddie says. "Okay? I'm not gonna make you go anymore."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I still love Mommy."

"I know you do, buddy, that's normal. You just don't wanna go round because of this new guy, right?"

"Yeah. If he went away I'd go."

Eddie nods, closing his eyes for a moment. He knows what he's doing tomorrow, and somehow, he knows he's not gonna like it.


	19. Catch 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS ARE THE BEESSSST okay so this chapter is sort of a set up chapter for shit i want to happen in later chapters with eddie, shannon, and buck. just trust the process babies. chapters 20 and 21 are some of my favourites, and chapter 21 has a big dose of competent firefighter buck that we all know and love.
> 
> I EVEN SORT OF KNOW WHAT I'M DOING NOW
> 
> once again i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5! i don't bite, drop me a line ^_^

Neither of them sleep well that night.

Eddie lies awake quietly, staring at the ceiling. Buck drifts restlessly, tosses and turns like he's being chased in his dreams, and eventually rouses himself with soft, sad sigh.

"Hey, Buck," Eddie says.

Buck wriggles over to him, slumps his whole body over Eddie's like a blanket. "Hi," he whispers.

Eddie raises a hand, rubs Buck's back soothingly. "What's keeping you up, huh?"

"Just worried about Chris, that's all."

Sometimes Eddie forgets that he's not really in it alone anymore. He has no doubt Buck loves Chris, and is completely concerned for his welfare. "Yeah. Me too."

A long pause. "What're you gonna do?" Buck asks.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, and Buck leans up on his elbows to look at him in the darkness. His eyes are still shockingly blue. "I'm not going to make him go," Eddie says quietly. "The custody agreement is informal, and I know she might take me to court. But I'm not making him go somewhere he doesn't feel safe. He needs to know I'm on his side."

Buck nods silently, looking down at him. Eddie uses his thumb to stroke Buck's birthmark, then smooth down the little hairs of his eyebrow, alternating between the movements and finding a somewhat soothing rhythm.

"Do you think I'm making the right choice?" he asks. It matters to him, what Buck thinks, even though Buck isn't Chris's other parent and Eddie's gone it alone for so many years now the support feels foreign.

"You're making the choice I wish someone had made for me," Buck says softly, and Eddie swallows. "That feels right. I'll back you up one hundred percent of the way, Eds."

Eddie kisses him gently, then pulls him back down until Buck's face is tucked securely in the crook of Eddie's neck. "Get some sleep, Buck," he says tiredly. "You'll need it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm about to ask you to watch Chris in the morning while I talk to Shannon."

A long pause. "I think you'll need the sleep more, Eddie."

He huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Probably."

~*~

Shannon texts him her address and he heads over there after breakfast with Buck and Chris, determined to set the record straight and get some answers.

She seems to know why he's there, because she lets him in without any pleasantries, really. Eddie looks around the place - it's decorated nice, but still in an area of town that's on the cheaper side of affordable.

"So, is the boyfriend here?" he asks.

"What?"

"The boyfriend." He turns to her. "Chris told me everything," he says. "About the boyfriend. And getting called a cripple."

Shannon goes almost white. "He told you?"

"Well, he told Buck, swore him to secrecy, and then Buck told me," Eddie says. "He also said that he told you that your boyfriend, whatever his name is, called him a cripple, and that you didn't do anything other than yell at him-"

"I made him leave that night!"

"He hit Chris!" Eddie yells back, and the apartment falls silent for a moment. They're staring at each other and Eddie had told himself he wouldn't yell but he can't help it - he's livid and more than that, he's scared, because he was supposed to protect Chris and he failed. He failed horribly. They both did, but Eddie feels like the onus is more on him, somehow.

"He what?"

"He smacked Chris. For having the accident." Eddie paces, rubbing his face.

"Chris didn't..."

"Why would he lie?" Eddie demands, before she can get further. "Why would he lie to Buck and then beg Buck not to tell me?"

They're at a standoff again. She looks like she wants to defend herself, but knows that it wouldn't be a good idea - it's not defensible, to say she didn't know the guy was bad news when she knew at the very least he'd called their son a cripple.

A cripple. A word Eddie has been fighting against since Chris came into this world, an identity he's desperately tried to shield his son from.

"What was the point?" Eddie demands. "Of tormenting me and trying to get back with me if you were already seeing someone? What was the fucking point?"

There's a long pause.

"This is why you haven't tried to take him off me," Eddie realises. "Because you knew all the stuff about the boyfriend would come out. That Chris would tell the truth about what happened. You have the money-"

"I don't have the money, Eddie! Look at this shitty apartment!"

"Your parents have the money," he snaps. "You made sure I knew that when we split the first time-"

"My parents don't know," she says, her voice breaking.

Eddie blinks. "They what?"

"They don't know that - that I don't have Chris. That we're split up. I was too - I was embarrassed to tell them, okay?"

Eddie absorbs the information slowly. He feels a little bit like he's moving underwater, like he's stuck and unsure of what do to. On one hand, he can see Shannon genuinely didn't know that her boyfriend had struck Chris, and is horrified. On the other hand, he can't reconcile that she failed to protect him, and that she's been messing with Eddie's life in ways she didn't even need to right from the get go.

"You were furious when Buck got involved in our lives," he says softly. "Said I didn't do my research, that he wasn't part of the family, that I was irresponsible and selfish by introducing him, said I would grow out of it. Any choice I made, you were belittling me for it. And you were here the whole time doing exactly what you were accusing me of, except Buck didn't hit Chris, or call him a cripple. He stepped up."

"Eddie, I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Why try to get me back if you had a boyfriend?" he demands. "I just - Dios, Shannon, we loved each other once, we loved each other enough to get married and make this great kid and now we can't be in the room together for more than a few minutes without bickering. Why are you doing this? Why push so hard when you had him here the whole time?"

"Because I don't love him, Eddie, I love-"

"Don't," Eddie says. "This isn't even about how you feel about me. This is about Chris and that he should've been safe here and he wasn't and you weren't honest with me about the boyfriend or the boyfriend calling him a cripple and I kept making him come because I didn't know. We both failed him here."

Eddie rubs his face, stands up. "He said you didn't tell me about the cripple thing because if I knew we wouldn't get back together," he says quietly. "He's kept it a secret for months. So have you. Take me to court if you want to... I honestly don't care. But he's not coming here again."

"Eddie, please don't do this to me," Shannon sobs.

"This isn't about you," Eddie exclaims. "This is about Chris! About him feeling safe and accepted and loved and right now, coming to this apartment, with your boyfriend here, he doesn't, and I'm not gonna be the guy who makes him."

"Are you going to stop me from seeing him?" Her voice wobbles. "Eddie, he's my son-"

"He's our son," Eddie says. "If you want to see him you can call ahead. No more just swinging by. I make the decisions here - I'm deciding who sees him and when. And no more shit-talking Buck, either. You made soup for him when he was home from hospital, what the hell changed?"

"I just... saw how you are with him," she whispers. "It feels like you're building a family without me."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He's not giving Buck up, and he's not forcing Chris to come here anymore. "You can come see him," he says. "But only when he's comfortable. This needs to be about him and it hasn't been. We've been so focussed on fighting we didn't think. It's time we start."

"Eddie, wait."

He stops on his way to the door, then turns. "Yeah?" he sighs.

She looks down. "We're not getting back together." It's a statement, not a question, though she definitely expects him to refute it.

"No," he says simply. "I'm going home. I need to talk with Chris." Before he opens the door, he turns back to her - sees her standing in the living room like she's not sure how he got there.

"I want his name," he says simply.

"His what?"

"His name," Eddie says. "I want his fucking name. Text it to me, write it down, I don't care, but I'm not giving up on that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna do what you should've done and report him." He takes the piece of paper she hands him, reads the name on it. "Is this really him?"

"That's him," she says shakily.

"You better not be lying," Eddie says, ripping the door open. "I'm not taking any more of this shit, Shannon. I'm done."

~*~

When he gets home, both his boys are asleep on the couch.

There's Jenga pieces everywhere, the Switch is lying on the coffee table, and there are crayons rolling around on the floor. It looks like a playroom exploded, and Eddie's not surprised to find them both knocked out, Buck on his back with one arm wrapped firmly around Chris, who's asleep on his chest.

The anger almost fizzles out then and there. He wants to find this Ricky guy and have a talk - just a talk, he swears to himself, just a talk - but on the other hand he sees Buck and Chris sleeping and thinks about the guy who would hit a kid and how dangerous he might be, and what he might be starting by tracking the guy down.

What he wants to do and what he needs to two are at polar ends of the spectrum here. He wants to beat the everloving shit out of Shannon's boyfriend. He also knows he needs to do the right thing, because while beating the shit out of the guy would be satisfying - it would be fuel for a court battle, a string of criminal charges, and doesn't actually do anything to help the situation.

So for now, he files it away. Slips the paper into his pocket and steps into the living room.

Buck doesn't move when Eddie enters, but Chris does. He blinks awake, sees Eddie in the doorway of the living room, and beams sleepily.

"Hi, Daddy," he whispers.

"Hey, buddy."

"I wanna get up."

He heads over and picks Chris up. Buck's arm tenses a little, but he mumbles, "Oh, just you," when Eddie presses a quick kiss to his head and lets go. Chris giggles a little as Eddie carries him to the kitchen and sets him into a chair.

"You hungry, superman?"

"Yeah."

Eddie begins a sandwich, and they laugh a little over Buck, still sleeping soundly on the couch. He hasn't really roused himself other than to roll over.

"Did you talk to Mom?" Christopher asks quietly.

Eddie swallows his bite of sandwich. "Yeah, I did."

Chris looks anxious. "I-"

"Hey, buddy," Eddie says softly, and moves Chris to his lap. "Listen to me, okay? It's not for you to worry about. It's an adult problem. You're safe here, right? You know that?" He strokes Chris's floppy blonde curls back from his face, not for the first time noticing that they look remarkably like Buck's.

"Yeah." Chris picks at his ham. "I had an accident once when Buck was here."

Eddie feels an immediate flash of guilt. Accidents happen, even with seven year olds who can move at regular speed and get to a toilet - but they have the added insult of injury with Chris's cerebral palsy. "I'm sorry, buddy," he says. "That must've been embarrassing."

"It was scary," Chris admits. "Because Mom's friend was mean about it. But Buck wasn't mean. He - he helped me clean up, and then he gave me a bath and he said he used to have accidents too. He was nice."

"He never told me." Eddie turns his head, watching as Buck's broad back rises and falls with his breathing on the couch.

"I - I asked him not to," Chris says. "He said it could be our secret."

Eddie hums thoughtfully. "You know, Mom didn't know that her friend hit you," he says quietly. "She was really upset."

"That's why I didn't tell her." Chris turns huge eyes on him. "I love Mommy. But I'm scared of her friend. What if - what if he's around when I'm around?"

Eddie sighs. There's no easy answer here. He's angry too - that Shannon didn't tell him she was seeing someone, that Chris was put at risk this whole time, that she didn't protect him the way she should have, that she was still fighting for Eddie even while seeing someone else, that she made things hard with Buck - but he also knows that loneliness can drive a person to do strange things, and so can fear. He was so afraid when Chris was born that he re-enlisted, and that did damage.

He thinks Shannon should've left the guy the minute he called Chris a cripple. He also thinks that if she'd known the guy hit her son, she probably would've thrown him out then and there. She's done some bad things, some manipulative things, but she's not a bad person. Eddie has no doubt in her love for Chris. He's just - afraid, of so many things. Of what courts might say. Of Chris getting taken away from him.

If he takes this to the police, how far will it go? Will they be able to help, or will it be too small for them to be able to realistically prosecute him? And if Eddie takes that path, and it doesn't end in prosecution, all he'll have done is brought the guy's attention to them more than what it already is. Is that a risk he's willing to take?

He's afraid of a guy who would hit a kid hitting a woman. Or worse.

"I'm not going to make you go if you don't want to go, Chris," he says. "I promise I won't, okay? I know that I was making you, and you didn't understand why, and there's still some stuff you don't need to know or worry about because you're a kid. I know you worry anyway-"

"I don't anymore," Chris says earnestly, wriggling around so he can look at Eddie properly. "Because you have Buck. And Buck worries with you."

Eddie smiles. "He does, huh?"

Chris nods vehemently. "He takes good care of you, Dad," he says firmly. "Like you do for me. And abuela and Pepa like him-"

"That's important too, right? That our family likes him?"

"Yeah! As long as he likes us the most."

Eddie laughs. "Right." He looks at the clock. "Well," he says, "you better go wake him up. We have to go get Liam soon."

Chris wriggles off his lap and picks up his crutches. "Bucky!" he yells, and Buck jerks, flails, and promptly falls off the couch, causing both Eddie and Chris to laugh.

"Whuzzat?" Buck asks, blearily, sitting and putting his head on the coffee table.

"It's time to go get Liam," Chris says, grinning.

Eddie helps Buck to his feet, still trying not to laugh. "That was, uh, impressive," he says.

"I live to please, Eddie." Eddie was momentarily worried that the fall might've jarred Buck's leg, but he seems fine, and he swings Chris into his arms to tickle him. "You, you little monster-"

Chris squeals as he's tickled, and Eddie resigns himself to being the one who's getting their things together. Still - it's nice, to see them playing and know that Chris is safe with Buck, no matter what happens.

He leans over, seeing a break in the fanfare, and gives Buck a quick kiss. Buck's smiling when he pulls away.

"What was that for?"

"I felt like it," Eddie says simply, and Buck's smile widens. "C'mon. Let's go let Liam."

~*~

Liam - as always - is delighted to see them.

He's already on the front step of his parents' house when they get there, and his face beams when he sees that Buck has accompanied them both. "Chris!" he says excitedly, and runs down the driveway to hug Christopher tightly.

Honestly, Eddie is happy that Chris has a friend who will openly share his affection, without judgment. Eddie's a little reserved in that department, not as casual with any of his touches, and he doesn't want Chris to learn that from him.

"Hi, Liam! Buck came!"

"I also came," Eddie says, mock-wounded.

"Hello, Mr. Diaz," Liam says, hugging his legs tightly before bounding over to Buck. "Hello, Mr. Buck."

"You know you can call me Buck, right, kiddo?" Buck laughs.

"I know, Mr. Buck," Liam says cheekily, and Buck laughs before jumping the steps to the house two at a time and grabbing Liam's bag. "This it?"

"Yep!"

Eddie peers at the house. "Where's your parents?"

Liam's face shutters. He fidgets, then huddles up a little closer to Eddie's legs.

"Mom's at work," he says finally. "Dad's inside."

"Well," Buck jumps in immediately, "wouldn't wanna bug your dad, right? He knows you're coming with us?"

"Yeah, Mom told him."

"Well let's go then! We have crystal kits to play with and Animal Crossing villagers to harass and pancakes to make and one whole Edmundo Diaz to clean up after us!"

"Hang on, I didn't get to play a part in this plan," Eddie says. "What if I want to harass the Animal Crossing creatures?"

"Daddy, someone has to be responsible," Chris says seriously.

"And it's not me, Diaz," Buck teases, sweeping Chris off the ground to put him in his car seat. "Alright! Who's ready for the best weekend ever?"

"Me!" both kids crow.

Eddie gives one long look at the house. He knows Liam's dad is a prick, but to not even want to go inside and say goodbye? Waiting on the steps for God knows how long? What the hell is going on in there?

"Excuse me, chauffeur," Buck says in a mock British accent. "We have places to be."

"Yes sir," Eddie says dryly, hopping into the driver's seat. "Where to?"

~*~

If Chris favours Buck for the afternoon, Liam favours Eddie.

Eddie sees a lot of himself in the kid, in the way he's sort of shy and seeking approval and desperate to get some affection. He's more than happy to provide it, in spades, and he helps Liam get a little apron over his head when they break out the crystal kit.

"Okay," Buck says, clapping his hands together. "So it says we need six cups of water... uh, a cup is like eight ounces so..." Buck's forehead scrunches. "We need sixty two fluid ounces?"

"Jesus, Buck," Eddie says, alarmed. "It's forty eight."

"Are you sure?" Buck asks dubiously.

"How is it that you can cook when you can't do math?"

"I just guess," Buck whines. "Stop dragging me for my bad math skills. I'm getting there. Chris is teaching me."

"Chris is teaching you math?" Eddie's oddly proud. "You're letting him?"

"It's never too late to learn," Buck says cheerfully. "And Chris is a good teacher, right Liam?"

"Yeah," Liam says, smiling. "Chris helps me with math every day. And he cheers me up when I get sad."

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, ruffles Chris's hair. "Smart kid," he says fondly.

They get the crystal kit going - not letting Buck do any of the math - and then Buck shoos them out of the kitchen so he can cook dinner. "It's my house," Eddie says weakly. "I should really-"

"No," Buck and Chris say in unison, and Liam giggles.

Buck helps get Chris ready for bed, which generally takes a little longer when Chris has to do exercises beforehand. In the meantime, Eddie helps Liam brush his teeth, and is revelling in just how - content he is with this.

When he was younger, he wanted a lot. A cool car and a penthouse and, yeah, hot girls. He wanted all that. He wanted the glory of the army without the grit that came with it and the ease of a relationship without the work. Now, he's content with his little life, treasures moments like this, and there are only a few things he wants.

For Chris to be safe, and happy.

For Buck to stick around, preferably forever.

For them to live together as a family.

"Mr. Diaz?" Liam asks quietly.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

Liam chews his lip. He looks upset, and Eddie suddenly realises that this is it - if Liam is gonna tell him anything, it'll be right now, in this moment.

"Dad hits Mom," Liam admits, aloud, finally. "And me sometimes. When I try to stop him."

God. Eddie somehow thought the kid would work up to it the way Buck did, with easing him into the idea and then calling it by other names he knew Eddie would understand, but weren't as confrontational. And despite it all, he doesn't know what to say. He would know what to say to Buck, sort of. But not Liam.

Eddie kneels in front of Liam. "Thank you for telling me, Liam," he says softly. "I believe you, okay? I want you to know I believe you."

Liam's eyes well up. "You do?"

"Of course I do, buddy. It's really brave to tell me. You know it's not your fault, right?"

Liam's lip wobbles. "They fight lots," he whispers. "And Daddy found out I'm not his. He says I'm someone else's. And now he's mad all the time and he makes Mom cry."

Eddie blinks back tears, remembering the first time he put together the pieces and realised Buck had been abused by his father and then his ex boyfriend - remembers how it had shattered some part of him that still somehow believed that parents don't hurt their children. That first time finding Buck curled in the bathroom, dazed by a nightmare.

"I'm so sorry, Liam," Eddie murmurs back. "Hey, we're gonna protect you, okay? Me and Buck, we'll help you. Have you told anyone at school?"

"I told Chris," Liam sniffles. "I wanted to tell a teacher. But then maybe he'd get madder."

Maybe he will, but Eddie can't sit on it. "Okay. You want me to go with you when you tell a teacher, then?"

"Yes, Mr. Diaz."

He pulls Liam into a hug. He can't not. Does this shit ever end? The longer he's alive the more and more he feels like he hasn't met anyone untouched by grief.

"I don't want Daddy to be sad," Liam whimpers into his shoulder. "But I don't want Mommy to be scared. I don't like it when he hits us."

"Hey, hey," Eddie soothes. "You did the right thing, buddy, okay? I promise you did the right thing." He leans back and smiles. "How about we get you and Chris all tucked in, and we can talk about what we're going to do in the morning, yeah?"

"Will Buck read us a story?" Liam asks, voice a little wobbly.

"I'm sure he'd love to."

Buck, mercifully, doesn't ask why Liam's been crying when they exit the bathroom, even though something breaks in his gaze and he looks like he definitely knows. He reads them both a story - faithfully acting out each part, much to their amusement - and helps Eddie get them properly tucked in.

They both fall onto the couch after that. Eddie's head is spinning, and Buck has leaned over to snuggle into his side quietly.

"How bad is it?" he asks, voice breaking the silence.

"Both of them," Eddie says numbly.

Buck cuddles closer, silent. Eddie puts an arm around him. It can't be easy for Buck, watching parts of his childhood play out in an entirely different family. There's almost sure to be a nightmare tonight, but Eddie will cross that bridge when he comes to it.

"I'll call Athena tomorrow," Buck says finally.

"Yeah. I don't think we have an option at this point." He peers down at Buck's face. "Shit situation," he says quietly, "but I'm glad you're here to help."

Buck smiles weakly. "Well, the good and the bad."

"True," Eddie sighs, pulling him closer. "What do you think Athena will say?"

Buck shakes his head. "No idea," he says truthfully. "I don't really know how the cop stuff works, honestly. Nobody cared enough to call about me and Maddie."

Eddie feels like the air has been sucker punched out of him at that. Buck said it casually - there's no resentment in his voice, nothing other than acceptance for the fact that no one stepped in to help him and Maddie when they were kids. And it hurts to hear.

"Sorry," Buck says, sitting up. "That was uh - kind of heavy."

"Don't say sorry. I'm glad you tell me this stuff."

"I'm not. It makes you miserable."

"Well, I'd still rather know." Eddie smiles a little at him. "I know it doesn't make up for it, but you have me and Chris now."

"I dunno," Buck says softly. "It comes pretty close."

~*~

Buck does call Athena the next day, while Eddie sits down and talks to Liam.

Liam won't really give him much, and he doesn't know what Athena tells Buck. Buck, being a firefighter, is a mandated reporter anyway, and has no choice in actually calling it in. Where it goes from here, Eddie doesn't know.

What he does know is that he doesn't want to drop Liam off, that Liam doesn't want them to drop him off, and that they can't keep him. He hears Buck say, "Athena, the guy is smacking his kid around, what do you mean we can't just-" and then, after a moment, "Yeah. I know. But it still sucks."

Eddie's guessing she said they can't just keep him. That legally it's kidnap even if morally it's the right thing to do. So they take Liam home, and they write down every phone number they both have and Athena's for Liam, and promise to get him out of the house as often as they can.

And then they drive away, leaving Eddie feeling sick to his stomach with guilt and fear - and relief. Relief, because it's not his kid, because it's not his kid and he's grateful for that.

Buck heads home that night, giving both Chris and Eddie a slightly longer than normal hug. He's got work early the next morning, and doesn't want to disturb either of them by waking up and getting ready.

Eddie thinks Buck might also just need some time to himself. He's not exactly happy - he doesn't like the idea that Buck is leaving because he's sad - but if it's what Buck needs, he'll give it in spades.

"Call me if you need anything," he does say as Buck is leaving.

"I will." Buck gives him a quick kiss. "Same goes for you."

"Yeah, I will."

~*~

Work on Monday passes quickly, with several cars coming in for complex work that keeps Eddie going right up until the end of his shift. He heads out at four and treats himself to coffee on the way home just because it's cold.

He's been in the house, trying to focus on just one menial task instead of swapping between dozens of them every thirty seconds, when his phone rings. He answers right as he picks up Chris's laundry basket to take to the laundry, noting that it's Buck and smiling. It's nice that he calls when he's able to, or when he's finished.

"Hey," Eddie says, cradling the phone against his ear. "What's up?"

There's a pause, which immediately sets alarm bells ringing. "Buck?" he demands.

"Hi," Buck's voice comes, small and uncertain.

"Hey," Eddie says, relieved to hear him speak. He doesn't sound great, but he's speaking. "You scared me, not answering like that. What's going on?"

"Um," Buck says. "It's kinda dumb."

"I bet it isn't," Eddie quips lightly, flopping down onto the couch. "C'mon, cariño, you can tell me."

Another long pause, in which Buck breathes but doesn't say anything. Eddie waits him out. This is Buck, not Shannon - Shannon might've made him work for it, towards the end, but he knows Buck is just gathering his thoughts and will tell him eventually.

"You know how you said I should tell you if I'm in pain and I need help?"

Eddie sits bolt upright, heart shooting up somewhere into the vicinity of his throat. "Buck?" he demands. Buck's voice is so small over the phone it's like he's pulling his own teeth out trying to tell Eddie what's going on, but fuck it, he's trying, and Eddie will meet him ninety percent of the way if he has to. "What's going on?"

"I'm in pain and I need help," Buck's voice comes, exhausted.

Eddie stands up, grabs a jacket and his keys and heads to the bathroom to find his stash of "Buck's being stubborn" medicine. "Are you sick?" he asks. "Hurt?"

"No, no, I just... are you busy? You're probably busy-"

"I'm not," Eddie says, switching to speakerphone so that he can talk to Buck and text his abuela to please pick Chris up after school. "Where are you?"

"At home."

"Okay. I'm coming over, yeah? I'll be there soon, querido."

~*~

When he gets to Buck's, he tries the door before letting himself in, finds it unlocked, and opens it, barging in without even bothering to knock and announce his presence.

"Don't get up," he says, seeing movement in the living room. "It's just me."

He rounds the staircase and sees Buck sitting on the couch, wearing boxers and a t-shirt, blinking up at him with red eyes. He looks like he might have been crying, and there's a pill bottle on its side on the coffee table and his jeans and shoes are abandoned nearby.

"Hey," Eddie breathes, and sits down carefully, trying not to jostle him. "Hey, are you okay?"

Buck folds into his body desperately. "Yeah," he says, but his voice is tight and he puts a hand on Eddie's thigh and digs his fingers in so hard Eddie's alarmed by it. Buck's gotten good at hiding pain out of necessity, but Eddie wishes he'd drop the act here.

Eddie puts an arm around him, and Buck burrows deeper into his side. "What's going on?" he asks worriedly.

Buck's biting his lip. "I breached a door today," he says. "Used my bad leg instead of my good one. I can't get the pain under control."

Eddie reaches for the bottle on the table. They're opioids, but the dosage isn't strong. "How many of these did you take?" he asks. He knows he's triaging more than supporting right now, but this is shit he needs to know if he's gonna help and he knows Buck knows that as well.

Buck winces as he's jostled by Eddie reaching for the bottle. "Just two," he breathes.

"When?"

"Two hours ago."

Two hours for opioids to have had time to work is more than long enough. Buck must've really been holding out. "Okay," he says worriedly. "Uh-"

"I know you can't fix it," Buck's voice comes, somewhere from near Eddie's collarbone. "Sorry, I just - it hurts and I wanted to see you."

"Well I'm damn well gonna try," Eddie says heatedly. "Buck - did you take these with anything?"

"No."

"You need to have these with food, baby." It might be a bit late for that, though. Still, Eddie's not comfortable with the opioids chewing a hole through Buck's stomach lining without food in there. "Alright. You got your heat pack somewhere here?"

"It's upstairs."

"I'm gonna go get it. Are you okay here?"

"Yeah."

Buck's not stammering and he's speaking in complete sentences, able to answer questions, cognizant enough to let Eddie help him, and that's comforting.

He finds Buck's heat pack abandoned in the bed, which is unmade and, under any other circumstance, would look incredibly inviting. Right now, Eddie's only concern is bringing Buck's pain down to a manageable level, then figuring out how to avoid it happening again.

He throws the heat pack in the microwave and puts some toast in the toaster, digs around until he finds some unsalted butter in Buck's fridge. He takes both things back to the couch, where Buck is still more or less in the same position, only he's got two fingers dug into his hip and the other hand on his calf.

He looks miserable. Eddie smiles at him as he returns, trying to make him feel a little better. Still, when he sits, he can feel the tension in Buck's body.

"Stretch out," he says, grabbing the bag of stuff he'd brought over. "Eat some toast, let me worry about your leg."

Buck reclines back, still stiff and obviously in pain, and Eddie puts the heat pack on his hip before getting some of the topical Tylenol on his fingers. He's used this on Buck once, and it worked wonders, so he's hoping it'll do the same again.

He pinpoints the spot Buck was working at when he came back and gets to work - the initial few minutes suck for both of them, with Buck strung tense like a bow and Eddie saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again, knowing he's helping but not liking the pain it causes.

After five or so minutes, he can feel Buck beginning to relax into him. By ten, Buck's reached out for the toast - it's cold by now - and has started nibbling on a corner of it. He must know he's not going to get out of eating it, at any rate.

Eddie realises that aside from apologies, they haven't spoken the whole time. "Better?" he asks.

Buck rolls his head to look at Eddie. Now that he's not in as much pain, he just looked exhausted, like he needs to sleep. "Yeah," he says quietly. "God, Eddie, so much better. Thank you."

"Anytime." Eddie smiles, and Buck rewards him with a sleepy smile back. "See? This is what happens when you ask for help. You get a massage."

Buck even laughs a little at that. "I'll ask more often." He takes another bite of toast and chews thoughtfully, watching as Eddie works, then swallows and says, "The doc wants me to have hardware removal surgery."

"Jesus." Eddie's head jerks up at that, so he can look at Buck properly. "Seriously?"

Buck nods.

"How come?"

"They think that something about the hardware might've caused my clot," he says. "There's nothing else they can think of - I'm young, I'm healthy - I'm fitter than most of America. It's the only thing that'd changed. And they think that maybe the screws are actually causing some of the pain."

"It's not exactly common," Eddie notes, frowning. "I mean, still one of the most routinely performed, but not all that common. What happened?"

"I went to the hospital today to get checked out, after breaching the door. That's what they said." Buck shifts a little, his face relaxing when it doesn't hurt. "Anyway. I thought you should know."

"When do they want you to have it all out?"

"Not for a while. If I go through insurance it'll be two months, maybe three. But it's covered at least." Buck blinks at him. "Sorry if I ruined your day."

"But you're not sorry for calling?" Eddie checks suspiciously.

Buck chews his lip. "No," he says finally. "I'm glad I asked. You really helped."

"Good. And you didn't ruin my day." Eddie reaches over to rub Buck's chest affectionately, watching as Buck perks up a little with the contact and smiles. "When you get booked in for your surgery, let me know, okay? I'll be there."

"It's gonna be boring," Buck warns. "I'm just gonna be unconscious and then moody."

"That's fine. Who doesn't love time off work?"

"Me," Buck groans, and Eddie laughs a little. "Seriously, they're gonna start a betting pool on when I'll end up fucked up next, Eds."

"Stop getting hurt then," Eddie says, massaging Buck's ankle tenderly. "Look, you look beat. Get some rest - I'm just gonna hang out and eat all your food."

Buck yawns. "What about Chris?"

"Abuela's getting him from school."

"Okay. Thanks for coming over, man. I really - yeah, it helped a lot." He yawns again. "Sorry."

"You're fine," Eddie says gently, rubbing Buck's ankle again. He gets it - he's been injured before, through MMA and through deployment, and pain - especially chronic pain - makes you tired, makes you need rest. "Go to sleep."

Buck does, leaving his feet in Eddie's lap and the TV on. Eddie's relieved that he's finally managed to rest a little, hopes that it lasts long enough for Buck to recover a little bit of energy. He wouldn't mind some screwing around later. Literally.

Buck naps for about an hour, but he stirs when Netflix switches over to a new show. Eddie leans over - his ribs crunch a little but that's fine - and strokes Buck's birthmark with his thumb, marvelling at the soft pink skin there.

"Hmm?" Buck asks groggily.

"You fell asleep. Only been an hour or so."

Buck yawns, looking around. "Sorry."

"Don't be. How's the leg?"

"It's fine now." Buck stretches like he's proving a point, and his shirt rides up to expose the skin on his belly. Eddie takes his opportunity and sneaks his hand up under Buck's shirt, feels Buck's skin shiver and his muscles bunch and twitch eagerly. Buck smiles at him.

"I like it when you touch me like that."

"Like what? This?"

"Yeah. Just because. I like it when you touch me just because."

"I can do a lot more than touch you just because," Eddie murmurs, manoeuvring Buck's legs carefully, until he can slide in between them. Buck lets him settle there, puts a hand on Eddie's waist and uses the other to pull him in close by the back of the neck.

They've been together - really together - for a few months now, and Eddie's still getting to used to this. He's getting used to Buck being able to pull and push with just as much strength as Eddie can, he's getting used to feeling smaller. At first, it unnerved him - now, it's kind of nice. He's gotten used to Buck's power the same way he's gotten used to his gentle affection. It's so different from being with a woman, but just a intoxicating.

"Stop thinking," Buck mumbles, drawing him into a kiss. "We're alone."

"I'd noticed." Buck's lips are soft against his - for all that he's holding Eddie in place and pulling him down gently, he's yielding, and Eddie is very much in control.

He lets his teeth scrape gently against Buck's lower lip, works it into his mouth and almost smiles when he feels Buck's chest rise in a sigh. He can kiss and he knows it - so does Buck, if the problem poking him in the hip is any indication.

He leans away. "Happy to see me?" he teases, pressing his own hips down and trapping Buck's cock right there. Buck whines at him, works his hips up a little, seeking friction.

"Okay, okay," Eddie laughs, reaching in between them and leaving a little room so he can work his hand into Buck's boxers. He finds his dick and strokes it, teasingly soft and slow, and Buck rocks up into him with a bitten-off groan.

"Eddie..."

"What?" Eddie murmurs.

"Stop teasing, dude."

"Don't call me dude while I have my hand on your dick, man," Eddie grins, and Buck smiles and chews his lip as he works at Eddie's own belt buckle. Eddie's half-hard already, just from watching Buck, and he groans when Buck finally gets his belt and jeans open and works a hand inside to squeeze him.

"I missed you," Buck whispers into his throat.

"Yeah, I missed you too." Eddie bites down on his lip as Buck's thumb rolls over the head of his dick, just soft enough to be tormenting to him. "Missed being close like this."

Buck nods. He's more or less concerned with mouthing at Eddie's neck now, though his hips are rolling up into Eddie's eagerly and he's spread his legs a little more, made more room there. Eddie leans back just enough to shuck off his jeans completely, then comes back, lies carefully along Buck's side at the back of the couch - Buck puts an arm around him to steady him - and then squeezes their cocks together.

Buck's back arches a little, and he abandons stroking them in favour of pulling Eddie into a kiss, his movements becoming a little more frantic. Eddie wonders if this is what he'll be like when they eventually get around to real sex - if he'll start off all arrogant and cocksure and then beg, like Eddie's known him to do, or get frantic and desperate like he is now.

He's got one arm behind Buck's head, and that makes it easy for him to thread his fingers into Buck's short hair and give a gentle, experimental tug.

"Oh fuck," Buck moans. "That's playing dirty, Eddie, God-"

"Don't tell me you didn't like it," Eddie teases, doing it again - only this time he holds Buck's head back a little to get access to his chin and throat. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, hermoso."

"Why are we always on the couch?" Buck groans, reaching up to palm at Eddie's chest before moving down to his hand, wrapped around them both. His fingertips brush the skin of Eddie's lower belly, and Eddie whimpers openly as the muscles there jump and twitch with pleasure. "Oh, that's interesting-"

"I'm not a piece of trivia, Buck," Eddie mumbles, letting Buck's hair go to be able to kiss him again. He instead uses that hand to press Buck back into the couch by his hip, and Buck's dick jumps in his hand.

"I'm gonna come," Buck whispers into his mouth. "I'm really close-"

He doesn't get much further. Eddie presses him down just that little bit harder and watches as Buck's eyes haze over with arousal before his cock pulses and he's coming in Eddie's hand, and Eddie's helpless to do anything other than follow over the edge as Buck kisses him through it, open-mouthed, messy. Giving and giving even as they both ride out their orgasms.

Eddie slumps down on Buck, who makes a vague "oof" noise, but holds him close regardless. For a moment, they're quiet, just breathing and recovering, until Eddie realises they're sticky and it's gonna get really gross really quick.

He goes to get up, only for Buck to go starfish mode on him. "Buck," he laughs. "C'mon-"

"Nooo," Buck mumbles.

"I'm coming right back!"

Buck sighs in a very put-upon manner for someone who doesn't have to move and lets him go. Eddie cleans himself up before returning to the couch and doing the same for Buck, who doesn't lift a finger to help.

"You're lazy," Eddie says.

"Oh well," Buck yawns.

Eddie ditches the hand towel and heads back after a moment, lying back down on Buck's chest and gratified when Buck pulls him in happily. "I should be on top less often," he says. "That way you have to get up and clean up."

"You like being on top so you can push me around," Buck says, and Eddie blushes at being called out.

"How's your leg?"

"I am not in any pain whatsoever," Buck mumbles smugly. "Stay for dinner?"

"Yeah, I'll stay for dinner."

~*~

Buck whips them up something that involves haloumi and chicken and a ton of spices and soft taco shells, making it all look easy in the process.

"I don't know how you do it," Eddie says. "I'd buy that stuff and leave it forever because I wouldn't know how to make it all taste good."

Buck smiles. "Bobby taught me." He stands to take their plates to the kitchen; Eddie follows. "When I started at the 118 he was pretty horrified that I had no idea how to cook anything. I was the only one who paid enough attention I think."

"Surprised you paid attention at all," Eddie teases.

Buck rolls his eyes, but he smiles. "Nobody else ever taught me how," he says. "He asked why my dad didn't, which... I obviously didn't tell him."

Eddie nods, stepping up beside Buck to help do the dishes. "I'm sorry about that," Eddie says quietly. "Your dad that is. It probably doesn't help, but I am."

Buck smiles. "It does help."

"Just... no one taught you?"

"Maddie had too much other stuff on her plate, and Mom died when I was pretty small. Too little to learn much about cooking, anyway."

Eddie hesitates, feeling a little out of his depth. "Sorry about your mom, too," he says eventually, because he's not sure he ever has said it - the last time Buck mentioned her, it was in front of Chris, and they didn't cover off on it. "Sounds like you really love her."

Buck shrugs. "It was a long time ago," he says. "It's - I mean yeah it sucks sometimes, for sure. I miss her. But I had Maddie. She was basically my mom for a really long time. That's why she's a little protective of me."

Eddie nods. "And your dad?" he asks. "What happened to him?"

A moment of silence. Then, "He lives in Pennsylvania."

Eddie's a little surprised by that. For some reason, he'd thought that Buck's dad was probably dead, but it sounds like he's very much alive.

"He didn't visit at the hospital," he says, which feels like... not the right thing to say, but the only thing he can think of.

"I asked Maddie not to tell him I was there, and the rest of you don't know anyway," Buck mumbles. "I mean, we didn't - didn't exactly get along, you know? I haven't seen him in two or three years."

Which would make Buck... twenty three or twenty four the last time he and his father spoke. A few years after Matt, then. "Can I ask you something without sounding like a dick?" Eddie asks.

"I don't know, can you?" Buck teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Just - you still speak to him?"

Buck pauses, considering. "We kind of weigh it," he admits. "Like - if we don't speak to him, sometimes he just drives on down to see us and neither of us want that... he did it less with Maddie because she was married, but it's just... I don't even know if he'd try anything now but..." Buck rolls his shoulders. "Sorry, it's hard to explain."

"Take your time, but don't feel like you have to," Eddie says gently.

"No, I want to." Buck nibbles his lip thoughtfully. "It's like - I'm a lot bigger than him now. I'm not that scared little kid who has to hide in bathrooms to feel safe anymore, except sometimes if I'm really stressed I sort of am. And he's old, sure, I know I could stand up to him and I'd probably win but - it's eighteen years of memories, you know? I don't always remember that I'm bigger than him or that he won't try anything anymore. And it's different for Maddie too. So it's just - when he calls sometimes, or texts, it's easier to just play the game than risk him coming up here."

"He's done that before?" Eddie asks.

"Once. Before I joined the 118." Buck winces. "It wasn't a fun time."

Eddie thinks about it, then. That Buck and Maddie, even after escaping their father, ran straight into relationships with people that would abuse them and still haven't really gotten away from him - that he's left enough fear in both of them that they play the game his way, even if they know he's cheating the rules.

"Are you scared of him coming here?" Eddie asks.

Buck hesitates. "I mean, I'm not scared he'll hurt me."

"That's not what I asked."

"A little," Buck admits. "Not because I'm scared he'll hurt me, though, Eds. It's just always tough and I don't want... I don't want you and Chris to have to put up with that."

Eddie rests his chin on Buck's shoulder. "We're in it together, remember?" he asks seriously. "That's what you told me about Shannon, anyway. It's not one sided."

Buck nods. He's worrying at his lip, but he does smile at Eddie and it looks genuine. "Thanks, Eddie," he says softly.

"No problem," Eddie replies easily, and lets go of Buck in order to help with some kind of dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unfortunately i've seen child abuse play out over and over again and it's not as easy as a kid just getting removed from the home immediately. i am trying to keep the story realistic as to what happens in real life, and in real life unfortunately sometimes child protection services are slow to act and reluctant to move kids from a family. these things can take years to play out and i want to try and be faithful to reality with it.
> 
> that being said don't worry liam's dad and shannon's boyfriend will pay lmao


	20. Crux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my rescue cat went "mrrrhh?" at me today and it made me so happy i decided to post this chapter early
> 
> thank you for all the love that you guys show on here and on twitter and tumblr! this is by far one of my favourite chapters and i'm excited for everyone to read it :D
> 
> trigger warning in this chapter for PTSD flashbacks. it's not a huge scene but please read carefully!
> 
> as per usual, i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

"Found him."

Eddie looks up. Buck's sitting at his laptop, squinting at the screen. Chris is playing in the living room, oblivious to what either of them is doing.

"How did you find him that fast?" Eddie asks.

"He has a bunch of profiles but if you search by phone number and email address you can match it up," Buck says distractedly. "Plus you can look at Facebook's coding to see if the profile link that matches his has visited Shannon's, and it has. It's visited yours too. This has gotta be him."

Eddie smiles at that - trust Buck to know how Facebook coding works, honestly. He's smarter than people give him credit for. "Smart," he says fondly.

Buck looks up at him. "Have you decided what you're gonna do, Eddie?"

Eddie cranes his neck to look in the living room. Chris is still occupied.

"I kind of want to go around and beat the crap out of him," he says.

"Okay, you're not alone in that," Buck replies, looking a little worried. "But if you do that I feel like things are gonna get a lot worse."

"Which is why I'm not going to do it," Eddie sighs. "I'm going to fantasize about doing it, but I'm not going to actually do it. I just... there's a lot at stake, you know? What if the police can't help us because it's a one-off, and he just gets pissed off? Or what if they find him and charge him but the courts don't uphold the charges and I've dragged Chris through that for nothing? And what if I do nothing and things get worse?"

Buck nods along with him. "You could ask Athena," he offers. "She'd be able to help you, Eddie. She'd at least be able to point you in the right direction." He smirks slyly. "Or maybe she'll go have a talk to Ricky herself."

Eddie shudders. Heaven help the man on the receiving end of Athena's wrath, honestly.

"Is Shannon gonna leave him?" Buck asks.

Eddie blinks. He hadn't actually thought to ask her that. "I don't know," he admits. "I was so angry I just... demanded his name and then left."

"If Shannon isn't gonna leave him, you've got a way bigger problem," Buck says quietly. "Because then you take it to the cops and he knows and he's still in the picture. For what it's worth, Eddie, I'm with you - whatever you decide, it'll be the right thing. I'll back you up."

Eddie sighs, sits down in the seat next to Buck. "What would you do?" he asks, staring at Ricky's smug, grinning face in his profile photo.

Buck hesitates. "I don't know," he admits. "I really don't. Part of me says you gotta follow it through, and the other part just wonders if it's worth the risk. If it's actually what's best for Christopher."

What's best for Christopher. That's what this is all about, ultimately. Figure out what's best for Christopher. "They'd make him give a statement," Eddie says, and Buck nods. "And if it did go to court... you think he'd have to testify?"

"Yeah, probably. Maybe not in the room, but..."

Edie nods silently, and Buck shuffles his chair closer, leans in to give Eddie a sweet little kiss on the temple and pull him in close. It reassures Eddie enough for him to make up his mind - he's going to call Athena and he's going to do... something.

"Thanks, Buck," he murmurs, and Buck smiles brightly. "Now you wanna tell me how you've worked out Facebook's coding system?"

~*~

He's surprised when, on a Tuesday three weeks later, he receives his LAFD interview results. He'd been so busy with work and Buck and a whole number of other things that he'd forgotten he'd even done it - namely, busy coordinating with Athena what they're going to about Shannon's boyfriend.

The answer so far - nothing, because Athena has to be able to prove something happened, and Eddie isn't willing to put Chris through the stress of a statement just yet.

When Buck comes over that afternoon, pleasantly tired from a sixteen-hour shift, Eddie accosts him immediately. "I got my results," he says nervously, slightly muffled by Buck kissing him enthusiastically. "I haven't opened the email yet."

"Already?" Buck asks, excited as Eddie stresses over whether or not to open the email. "Eddie, it's only been three weeks, man! It took them the full six to get back to me!"

"I probably failed horribly," Eddie groans. "I probably failed so hard they got halfway through marking me and then gave up because they realised there's no way I'd pass-"

"Eddie, full offence, but you sound like me. I'm supposed to be the dramatic one. If you change the way this works it's all gonna fall apart, so I think you should just open the email."

Eddie makes a wounded noise, secretly pleased when it makes Buck smile. "Is this Tough Love Buck?" he asks. "I liked Kiss It Better Buck more. Can I have him back if I'm gonna open this email?"

"Fine, but only if you open it right now and let me look," Buck says, mockingly stern.

So Eddie opens the email, and reads it, and then reads it again, and then hands the phone over to Buck when Buck gets frustrated with him skim-reading. He can't believe it, and Buck's face morphs into a huge grin.

"Eddie... you didn't just pass, man, this is..."

"I passed," Eddie says dazedly.

"We're having a fucking party!" Buck whoops, picking Eddie up under the ass and swinging him in a circle, which forces Eddie to hold onto his shoulders and pray that Buck remembers there's a ceiling fan in the hallway. "We're having a huge party for this, Eddie! I'm gonna call the team-"

"Buck," Eddie laughs.

"No buts! We're celebrating! This is great!" He's deposited none too gently on the ground, and only so Buck can tackle him with kisses. "I'm so proud of you," he says, happily, and Eddie's heart swells.

"I guess a party wouldn't be the worst thing."

~*~

The party ends up being a celebratory dinner at the firehouse, with Bobby cooking. The 118 has just finished work when Chris and Eddie arrive, and Buck all but careens out of the truck in his turnout gear just to see them.

"Hi!" he exclaims breathlessly, and both of them are immediately accosted into hugs. Chris giggles and squirms, and Eddie just flicks Buck's helmet playfully.

"Hey, Buck," Chris says excitedly. "Are Chim and Hen and Bobby here?"

"We sure are, Superman!" Chimney says, climbing out of the truck after Buck. "What, Buck and your dad getting boring? Ready to live on the wild side?"

Chris giggles and goes willingly to Chimney, who makes a show of huffing and puffing carrying him up the stairs. Hen greets him with a hug, and Buck motions him back to the locker rooms to talk as he puts away his turnout gear.

Eddie's soul feels alive just being here. It's like he stands in this room and can imagine himself, one of them, able to make a difference in someone's life - able to do something that has felt like it's in his bones since he was a kid, something he carried through army training and Afghanistan and remained miraculously intact on the other side. The desire to do good. He wonders if Buck feels it, too, and then sees the way he hangs up his gear carefully and thinks, yeah. He does.

"Bobby's making dinner," Buck says, smiling. "No one dies of salmonella tonight."

"Good, I'm hoping to make it through the fitness testing," Eddie teases, and gives Buck a quick kiss. "You sure this is okay? You guys look tired."

"This is exactly what we need," Buck reassures him. "C'mon, I'm pretty sure if we go up now we might be able to salvage some cookies."

~*~

"So, young Mr. Diaz," Chimney says, stabbing cheerfully at some sweet potato, "Our esteemed Buckaroo says you have news for the table."

Eddie slides a look at Buck, who's cutting up Chris's food for him with single-minded focus. His own food is totally untouched, even though they haven't had the chance to eat all shift. Once again, Buck is putting his son first.

"Um, yeah," Eddie says, smiling. "I got my interview score."

"It's only been three weeks," Bobby says, looking pleased. "You already got your score?"

"Tell them, Eddie," Buck urges excitedly.

"Yeah." Eddie can feel himself turning pink. "I scored in the top ten percent of applicants. They, um, I guess they really liked me."

There's a cheer around the table, with Buck's voice being the loudest. "Well done, Eddie," Hen says, squeezing his hand fondly. "That's amazing. I'm sure you'll be where you want to be in no time."

_At Buck's side_ , Eddie almost says, meeting Buck's eyes across the table.

"Your dad's awesome, you know that, kiddo?" Chim asks Chris.

"Yeah!" Chris says excitedly. "He's gonna be a hero!"

"He's onto the fitness testing now," Buck says proudly. "Not that he's going to have any problem with _that_ part of the process..."

"Buck, this is the dinner table," Hen groans. "Really?"

"What?" Chris asks, looking confused.

"Nothing," Chimney says. "Cover your ears and don't listen to a thing Buck tells you ever again."

"What if he tells me to eat my vegetables?"

"As long as you eat them normally, and not by tearing them up into slightly smaller pieces with your bare hands, you're fine," Hen soothes.

"Hey!" Buck protests.

"So he does it here too?" Eddie asks, which results in the entire table bursting into peals of laughter. "I kind of thought he only did it to side salads-"

"No, anything leaf-shaped on the plate is fair game," Chimney says. "Buck doesn't have time for cutlery, look at the size of him."

"You guys are mean," Buck whines dramatically. "I never feel accepted in this family. Eddie, tell them I eat salad normally."

"I can't," Eddie admits. "The first time we went on a date I was so distracted by how you were eating your salad I missed half of what you were saying, thought you were vegan and genuinely despaired over how I was gonna take you to any family things."

"I am never cooking for you again," Buck says haughtily, but he's smiling, eyes warm, as the table howls with laughter. Even Chris joins in, and Eddie's not even entirely sure if Chris understands enough to be amused or just thinks it's fun that everyone else is laughing.

"No, Bucky," he giggles. "If you don't cook we'll starve."

"Ouch," Bobby laughs, looking at Eddie's wounded expression. "You know, I was the one who taught Buck how to cook."

"Really?"

"He got sick of me eating tomatoes like apples," Buck explains.

"You... you used to what now?"

"Is it weird?" Buck asks.

"It's very weird."

"Why? They don't even have a core. You can eat the whole thing, no mess and no garbage left over."

"Don't bother," Hen says to Eddie, smiling. "We've tried to teach him how not to be a little raccoon child but it's never worked before."

Buck gestures wildly with the salad tongs. "Do not compare me to a raccoon," he says. "They're capitalist loan sharks who spend their lives negatively gearing the market and giving out loans to people who can't afford them."

"In other news," Eddie says, when the whole table stares in bewilderment and Chris is shrieking with laughter at Buck's side, "Chris here got a Nintendo Switch for Christmas and a certain someone who is _not_ my mijo has been playing _a lot_ of Animal Crossing."

"Have you worked out how to make Zipper go away yet?" Bobby asks.

The table falls silent as they look at the captain. He holds his hands up. "Harry has one," he protests. "There are eggs everywhere."

"How annoying is it?!" Buck demands. "Like he'll pay you money for making recipes with them but you can't catch any damn fish! They're _everywhere_!"

"And he's an impostor," Chris adds. "I don't think he's really a bunny."

"You know what, Christopher, you're right," Bobby says.

"Okay, I'm leaving," Chimney says. "I'm the only childfree person at this table and I have no idea what anyone's talking about."

Chris brightens. "I brought my Switch, Chim!" he says excitedly. "I can show you!"

"Well that'd be great, little guy!"

Eddie looks up with a smile and sees that Buck's face has gone oddly melancholic; he stands up and starts collecting people's plates before taking them to the kitchen. Eddie excuses himself to go and help - more like to find out what's going on, really.

"Hey," he says tentatively, stepping up to the sinks next to Buck. "You okay?"

Buck shrugs wordlessly, not meeting Eddie's eyes.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, concerned. "It's okay, Buck, you can tell me."

"Chimney said he's the only person here who doesn't have a kid, Eddie," Buck says lowly.

"Okay," Eddie says slowly, and Buck looks at him disbelievingly, and it takes Eddie a whole five seconds to catch up and remember that Chris isn't actually Buck's son. "Oh," he murmurs, feeling a little dejected - of course Buck doesn't want that label; it's too soon. He just didn't realise Buck would be so thrown off by hearing it.

"Yeah, _oh_ ," Buck snorts bitterly.

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay?" Eddie mutters. "I didn't say it. Can't exactly explain to Chimney you don't want to be lumped in with the rest of us."

Buck blinks. "Wha - no," he protests. "That's not..."

They stare at each other for a moment. A flush rises into Buck's cheeks.

"Eddie, I've wanted to be a dad since I could remember," Buck explains, a little uncertainly. "I swore I'd do better than mine did. And I felt - with Chris I felt like..."

Eddie waits, desperate for him to finish the sentence, but Buck looks away.

"It just reminded me I'm not," Buck mumbles. "Even if I'm pretending otherwise."

Eddie lets that sink in for a moment. Buck is silent next to him, and Eddie can basically feel the shame and embarrassment radiating off him. He'd thought Buck was mad about being accidentally lumped in with the rest of the parents at the table - but it was the opposite.

"You know," he says softly, and Buck stiffens until Eddie puts a gentle hand on his arm. "There's a lot more to being a parent than... just being biologically related to a kid."

Buck's still quiet, but he's not tense anymore.

"Like," Eddie continues, a little nervous, "tucking them in and reading them bedtime stories... or acting them out. Buying them another stuffed animal even though they don't need one because you want them to know you love them. Listening to them when they talk, even if it's the same topic over and over again, or carrying them when they get tired." He swallows. "Or helping them after an accident and promising to keep it a secret from their other parent, because they asked you to... or breaking a promise to keep something a secret, because you know their other parent needs to know."

Buck turns to look at him, his eyes a little glittery in the low lights of the kitchen. "Eddie..."

"Point I'm trying to make," Eddie murmurs, bolstered by the expression on Buck's face, "is that you're doing great. Don't... sell yourself short here. You're doing great."

Buck gives him a wobbly, pleased smile and leans in for a kiss, which Eddie is all too happy to give him. He'd never really realised he'd thought of Buck as Chris's other parent, or at least another parent, until now - but he genuinely wouldn't know what to do without Buck in their lives at this point.

"Buck!"

They both turn. Chris is crutching towards them quickly, and Buck squats down with a smile. "Yeah, pal?"

"Will you help me play the pinball machine?"

"Sure thing." Chris gestures that he wants to be carried, and Buck complies, lifting Chris up into his arms in a well-practiced movement. "Let's go!"

Eddie watches them leave, waving at Chris when his kid beams at him from Buck's shoulder. His son's hands look tiny on Buck's broad back, and Eddie knows without a doubt that his kid is safe as long as Buck is around.

He finishes up the dishes, then goes to join them. He doesn't want to miss a second.

~*~

They drop Chris at abuela's for a sleepover that afternoon, then head to Buck's. They're both still loose-limbed with the effects of a good meal and good company afterwards, and Buck lets them into his apartment while laughing about something Chimney said at dinner.

The windows are open, and the air smells like spring. Buck heads to the fridge and cracks them both open a beer, settles in at the counter, and smiles - that wide, guileless smile, the one that suggests he has less than nothing to hide and just really wants the person on the receiving end to know how special they are.

"I'm so proud of you, Eddie."

Eddie puts his beer down and steps in between Buck's legs, smiling when Buck's hands settle on his hips and he looks up into Eddie's face, still with that smile in place.

"Thanks," he says, quietly. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"You could have," Buck murmurs. "You did before."

"Well, I don't want to." Eddie takes Buck's face in his hands, carefully, and tilts it up so he can kiss him - feel the give of Buck's soft, full lower lip against his own, the gentle movement as Buck kisses him back but lets him take the lead all the way.

He pulls back, just enough to get his hands at the hem of Buck's shirt. Buck picks up on what he wants to do immediately and raises his arms above his head, tugging on the back until the black LAFD shirt is on the counter, and Buck's skin is exposed to the light, pale gold and gorgeous.

Buck stands up, and Eddie's suddenly at a height disadvantage - not that he minds. He quickly finds himself wrapped in Buck's arms, with all the soft skin of Buck's torso at his palms. He runs his hands up Buck's back, to his shoulders, feeling the muscles there shift.

"Upstairs," Buck murmurs.

Eddie couldn't agree more. Somewhere along the way his own shirt is lost, and Buck moves backwards until his shins hit the bed and then lies back, watching Eddie with a steady, hopeful gaze.

Eddie's wanted this for so long now he's hardly processing that he's got it. He crawls onto the bed, on top of Buck, and begins working his belt, then his jeans. He peels them off to reveal Buck's boxer briefs and powerful thighs, all just at Eddie's beck and whim.

"You're gorgeous," Eddie murmurs, partly to watch Buck blush and partly because he means it.

"Yours off too?" Buck asks, and Eddie stands to kick his own jeans off. He's back as soon as he can be, in between Buck's legs and finally skin to skin with him, feeling the shift of Buck's muscles beneath his own. He can feel that Buck's getting hard against him, knows exactly where this is going - they're alone, with nothing to interrupt in the near future.

He reaches down, palms Buck over his boxers teasingly. Buck groans as he flips them over, until Eddie's pressed into the mattress and Buck is on top of him, nosing at Eddie's neck. He finds his favourite spot - right over Eddie's pulse point - and sucks gently, the beginnings of a hickey.

"Buck," Eddie gasps, rocking up into him. There's heat pooling in his belly and he's desperate for it suddenly, sits up to force Buck to sit back and kisses his throat. "Buck, God-"

"I'm right here," Buck whispers, and his voice sounds ruined already. "Where do you want me?"

"Everywhere," Eddie says, pushing forward a little. He grinds upwards, into Buck's ass, as Buck grabs the back of his neck just a little more needily than he has been. His next kiss has more of an edge to it, feels more like he's pleading for something than just asking.

Then Buck lets him go, rolls off him, and reaches into his side table. Eddie follows, because not being close to Buck right now - close enough to crawl inside his skin and make himself at home there - feels like something he can't deal with, feels like he's experiencing too much and not enough at the same time.

Buck produces a tube of lube and leans back on his elbows, smiling almost shyly. "You wanna?" he asks.

Eddie smiles back. Buck's captivating, like this, having given up all the usual tricks he would use on Eddie and being just - disarmingly himself, gentle and trusting and totally open to following Eddie's lead.

"These off," Eddie murmurs, and Buck kicks his boxers off without further prompting. Eddie gives him a few slow strokes, then urges Buck into a position that's comfortable, with a pillow under his hips, as he flicks open the lube.

"Take yours off first," Buck says.

Eddie complies, standing briefly to pull his own boxers off, and then joins Buck on the bed again, pressing their bodies together to kiss him properly. His own cock drags against Buck's, and he shudders and feels Buck do the same.

He gets lube on his fingers, warms it up before snaking a hand down and to Buck's hole. Buck shudders anew when Eddie presses his middle finger there gently, and Eddie's worked out over the last month that this feels good for Buck - it's not pain, or even discomfort; it's genuine pleasure.

(One day when Eddie's less afraid, he'll ask Buck to do the same for him. But for now, this - giving Buck pleasure - makes him happy.)

"Easy," he says softly, and presses until his index finger sinks into Buck's body. Buck trembles, thrusting down onto him and pulling him down for a kiss.

They haven't gone all the way. Between their jobs and Chris and everything else, there's hardly time for anything, and Eddie's for once sure that he's reading it right and that Buck might actually be a little nervous. If he hasn't had a boyfriend since Matt, that would make sense.

He wraps his other hand gently around the back of Buck's neck, thrusting for a few minutes and waiting until Buck is pliant beneath him before even thinking about adding another finger. This part, he's used to - he can read Buck's body language like a book written just for him, and knows that the looseness in Buck's neck and shoulders in indicative that he's ready for more.

Buck makes a vague moaning noise into his mouth when Eddie presses back in with two fingers instead of one, and the kiss gets a little more desperate as his attention wanders. Eddie nibbles lightly on Buck's lower lip, crooking his fingers just so until Buck's spine arches.

"Right there," he gasps into Eddie's mouth.

"Hadn't noticed," Eddie teases, softly, before doing it again. He takes his time - they're alone, and there's no rush to go anywhere or do anything. He doesn't want Buck to come just yet, and Eddie knows he will if he keeps up with this.

Buck's arm flails out to the side, reaches for the bedside table again. After a moment of fumbling and some rustling noises, Buck produces a little silver packet. He meets Eddie's eyes just as he's about to rip it open with his teeth.

For a moment, they look at each other. Buck seems unsure of how far Eddie's willing to take it, but - Dios, he wants this; he wants whatever Buck will give him, and if Buck's going to give him this, Eddie's going to do it right.

He smiles gently and squeezes the back of Buck's neck, and Buck relaxes like a puppet with its strings slashed. He smiles back, rips the condom open, and rolls it down over Eddie, torturously slow.

If they're gonna do this, Eddie's going to make sure Buck's properly prepared. He withdraws his fingers and begins to lube up another.

"It's okay," Buck says softly, grabbing his wrist.

"Is it gonna hurt if I don't prep you more?" Eddie asks.

Buck hesitates before answering. "It always does a little anyway."

Buck's experience with this is from his abusive ex, so Eddie's gonna take that with a pinch of salt. He smiles lightly and says, "We've got plenty of time, right? Let me make you feel good."

Buck nods quietly, and Eddie leans down to kiss him again as he goes back with three fingers, this time. He was right to do so - Buck's a little tense, now, and only relaxes when Eddie whispers, "We can stop anytime, Buck," and rubs his side comfortingly.

Once Buck's relaxed properly, Eddie thrusts up gently. Buck rolls his hips, a filthy movement that causes their cocks to rub together on Buck's belly. Eddie rolls a little to the side, rests more on Buck's left side, and tucks his face into the side of Buck's neck while using his free hand to play with Buck's nipple.

It's an awkward position, and it makes his wrist hurt a little, but it's worth it for the sudden string of noise and pleas Buck starts uttering. "Eddie," he gasps, "Eddie, c'mon, not fair, please-"

"Please what?" Eddie teases, searching for Buck's prostate and finding it with ease. He watches as Buck's back arches again, and his nipple peaks up under Eddie's fingers.

"I'm ready," Buck gasps. "I swear I'm ready, God-"

He does feel a lot looser now. Eddie sits up properly and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on Buck's abandoned boxers before finding the lube again and applying a truly generous amount to his dick.

"Go slow," Buck says, suddenly.

"I will." Eddie kisses him, rubs up and down over Buck's hole gently, just to get him used to it. "You tell me to stop and I will, Buck, I promise. I don't want it to hurt for you."

Buck nods, not seeming to feel as nervous as Eddie thinks he is, and takes a deep breath in when Eddie pushes gently at his hole. God, Eddie's so hard he could come right here, just from being this close to being inside and feeling Buck's body shudder with anticipation underneath his own.

He presses the head in, and Buck sighs, leaning his head back onto a pillow. He's relaxed, and there's no tightness in his face to indicate he's in pain, so Eddie continues, stopping briefly when Buck does tense up.

It's slow going, but he eventually bottoms out and relaxes his body on top of Buck's, staring down into his face. Buck's so tight and so hot Eddie's heady with it, can feel Buck's muscles fluttering around him, squeezing, even through the condom.

Buck gives a long, drawn-out gasp as Eddie settles, one hand on Eddie's bicep scrabbling for purchase and the other clutching the sheets. When his eyes flicker open, they're lust-dazed, pupils blown, and his face splits into a cocky, open-mouthed grin. He hooks both legs properly around Eddie's waist, squeezes with his thighs in a way that very much demonstrates exactly what he could do with them and turns Eddie on more than Eddie cares to admit.

"Hey," Buck whispers.

"Hey." Eddie goes down on his elbows, kissing Buck languidly, running one hand up Buck's side and leaving the other tangled in his hair. He's not sure if he's trying to soothe or show how truly grateful he is for this moment, this intimacy, but he's sure somehow that Buck is getting the message from how his body erupts into shivers.

"Okay?" Eddie checks softly.

"Yeah," Buck murmurs back. Eddie still waits, even though Buck is so hot and deliciously tight around him he wants nothing more than to just move, already, and see if he can turn Buck into a complete mess, because he might not know much but he does know two things - that this will be an adjustment for Buck's body, and possibly his brain, and that it's been a while since Buck let anyone this close.

"You can move if you want to," Buck murmurs, blinking his eyes open to look up at Eddie. His free hand drifts to the back of Eddie's neck; he looks vulnerable, like this, somehow, and it's not necessarily a word Eddie would use for Buck - but he does, in a way that suggests this is exactly where he wants to be.

Eddie leans back down, into a kiss, keeping one elbow on the mattress and moving the other to hold Buck's bad hip gently. It anchors them both, he thinks, the familiar action, as he pulls out and thrusts back in slowly.

Buck shudders underneath him - around him - and whimpers into his mouth.

"Still okay?" Eddie checks, worried.

"Yeah," Buck breathes out. "It feels so fucking good, Eddie."

"Good." He picks up a little speed, taking stock of the way Buck's body clenches around him, the way Buck begins to roll his own hips upwards as Eddie finds a good rhythm. He's so damn responsive it drives Eddie nuts - everything Eddie does, Buck's body responds in kind, whether it's a shiver or a squeeze of his legs or his head tipping back more.

Eddie cants his hips, just a little, and Buck breaks their kiss abruptly, his arms looping around Eddie's neck and back. The moan he emits is so loud Eddie's momentarily terrified someone will hear and think he's in pain.

"Fuck, Eddie," Buck breathes. "Do that again, please-"

Eddie does, and he's rewarded with Buck's short, blunt fingernails biting into the skin of his shoulders. The sensation isn't painful, but something about it has him snapping his hips forward a little harder, burying his face into the side of Buck's neck as he picks up the pace.

He reaches in between them, clumsy, and finds Buck's cock weeping and desperately hard against his belly. The moment he touches it, Buck turns into an incoherent mess, alternately thrusting up into Eddie's hand and down, onto his cock. His thighs are just about crushing the life out of Eddie, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Eddie," Buck keens, and he sounds desperate, wrecked, like he needs nothing more than to come right then and there and that Eddie is the only one who can give him that release. "God, I'm so close, I'm so close, please-"

"Tell me what you want, hermoso," Eddie pants. He's staving off his own release, desperate to have it last even though the heat and tightness of Buck's body and his heaving chest against Eddie's is making it almost impossible. "Tell me-"

"Harder," Buck groans, and Eddie's eyes are open and watching for his next thrust - which is a blessing, because Buck's own eyes actually roll up into his head as his spine arches. "I'm gonna-"

It's all the warning Eddie gets. Buck's cock jerks in his grasp, and he comes, shooting towards his own chest and on Eddie's hand, heels digging brutally into Eddie's back and his nails dragging down Eddie's spine. Eddie can feel him pulsing, and the heat in his belly unfurls - he bucks into Buck's body, twice, before he finally finds his own release, panting and whimpering at the force of his own orgasm.

Buck cradles him through it, holds the back of his head and doesn't let his legs drop until Eddie's wrung dry. He lets his arms give, and Buck catches him, cradling Eddie to his chest.

For almost a minute, they're silent, catching their breath. Buck turns his head to nuzzle into the side of Eddie's face, and Eddie turns his own.

Buck's eyes are big and blue, wide open, guileless. Eddie can see right into his soul.

"Was that okay?" he murmurs.

Buck smiles, raises a hand to Eddie's face, and kisses him softly. "Yeah, you did okay," he whispers back, eyes glinting cheekily.

"Well, as long as there's room for improvement, I'll have to keep trying," Eddie says, causing Buck's smile to widen. "As long as my teacher is patient and forgiving..."

"And enthusiastic," Buck mumbles, grinning.

"I think he's got enthusiasm covered." Eddie shifts a little, and Buck winces. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. Just been a while."

"I'm gonna get up," he murmurs, kissing Buck briefly before beginning to move. "Get something to clean up with."

"Okay." Buck does wince when Eddie pulls out of him, even though he's gentle, and Eddie gives his hip a conciliatory pat before tying off the condom and throwing it in the waste bin in the corner of Buck's room. He pads into Buck's bathroom, finds a hand towel to wet and cleans himself off before headed back to the bedroom.

Buck has pulled a pillow underneath his head, and he smiles brightly when Eddie enters. "Aw, so good to me," he coos as Eddie gets back onto the bed and begins to clean him up. "I can do it."

"I like doing it," Eddie admits. It feels like an easy, intimate way to take care of Buck, show him that he loves him.

He lies down, after he and Buck find their boxers and put them back on. They probably need to shower, but Eddie's getting one hell of a hit of endorphins from being this close, and he can't say he wants to give it up.

"Pizza tonight?" Buck asks hopefully.

"Anything you want," Eddie murmurs into his neck.

~*~

Chris's nights with abuela begin to be Eddie's nights spent at Buck's place.

Which is good. Because Eddie loves being a parent, and he loves Chris more than anything, but juggling work, parenting, keeping a household, having a boyfriend and applying for the LAFD has his stress levels through the roof, and while he knows he only has to keep up with it for a little while, he can feel it taking a toll. One night a week alone with Buck has become his refuge, where he doesn't need to pretend not to be tired.

Thursday night is one of those nights. He wakes up late, which means Chris is late for school, which stresses them both out. He gets Chris there and then he's late for work, gets chewed out by his boss, and then has to start fixing a car belonging to some insanely rich guy who is on their case to finish a full three hours earlier than expected to. At this point, Eddie can feel the stress seeping down deep, feels the itch in his skin and realises he's going to have some serious work to do if he's going to prevent himself having a total meltdown.

The other guy working in the shop phones in sick. At this point, Eddie has just decided the day is going to suck, and what makes it worse is that Buck is working until three, and Eddie hasn't heard from him. He always worries when he doesn't hear from Buck on a shift, even though he knows Buck and the rest of the 118 are competent and fit and very much capable of looking after themselves.

When he finally does get off work, he's got a parking ticket. Fantastic.

He drags himself home to shower, then moseys on over to Buck's place. He's fairly miserable by the time he gets there, and they're supposed to go out tonight. He doesn't really want to, but he also doesn't want to let Buck down. Buck deserves nice dates with Eddie; he deserves Eddie's attention. So Eddie tries to suck it up before Buck opens the door.

When he does, he's beaming at Eddie, and something about just that loosens something in Eddie's stomach. "Hey," Buck says, happily, and pulls him into a hug. "I missed you."

Somehow, that makes Eddie feel worse. They haven't seen each other as much. Buck hasn't been letting himself into Eddie's house as often, as if he knows that Eddie's tired and needs to rest, and Eddie - God, it feels shitty to know that Buck's coming over less because of how he's been acting.

"I missed you too," Eddie mumbles into Buck's shoulder, wearily.

"Hey." Buck pulls him inside and closes the door. "You okay? God, you look exhausted, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "Long day. Long, shitty day."

Buck's face does that soft, earnest thing it does when he's about to offer himself up on a sacrificial platter. "You wanna talk about it?" he asks. "I know I didn't message much today, I'm sorry. We were really busy."

Eddie doesn't want Buck to feel guilty for not messaging him, Dios. He's being shitty. All week he's longed to just be in Buck's presence and now he's here he's acting like a jerk. "It's okay, Buck," he says, and tries to smile. "I'm just tired."

Of course, Buck's imaginary golden retriever ears prick up at that. "If you're tired, why don't we just stay in?" he asks. "We don't need to go anywhere."

"Because you deserve nice dates," Eddie says, frustrated. "And me being tired and cancelling is a shitty thing to do."

Buck smiles, like he knows what Eddie's trying to get it. "My idea of a good date is us being together and you being happy," he says. "We don't need to go out. We go out plenty with Chris. I just like being with you."

God, Eddie doesn't know what's gotten into him. He feels stressed and tired and like his skin is prickling with discomfort, like it's too small for him. Somewhere in the back of his head, he vaguely acknowledges that this is a recipe for disaster, that every time he has a flare-up in stress it's usually followed by his PTSD getting worse, but it hasn't been bad in so long - hasn't even crossed his mind since Buck. He hasn't had nightmares, or flashbacks - things have been good. Things have to continue to be good.

"Eddie," Buck murmurs. "You look stressed out, baby."

The term of endearment slips out, and it makes Eddie feel at ease, somehow. He steps up into Buck's space and allows Buck to wrap him up in a tight hug.

"You promise you don't mind if we don't go out?" he asks tiredly.

"I promise." He can hear Buck smiling. "I made cinnamon rolls. Maybe we can order pizza or something or - I have the ingredients for risotto, I think. What do you feel like?"

Eddie's eyes sting a little. Buck is so good to him. Even after everything, Buck is so, so good to him.

"I don't want you to have to cook," he says, trying to claw his way back into a normal mindset. "You worked all day-"

"You know I like cooking," Buck says earnestly. "Do you want risotto?"

"Yeah, okay," Eddie mumbles. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. Come keep me company."

If Buck's only request is for company after Eddie's just tanked his plans for the night, Eddie's happy to oblige. He sets up with a beer at Buck's kitchen counter and watches as he starts to get everything ready. He's chattering away cheerfully, which must mean that the shift, while busy, probably didn't involve anything serious.

"Buck?" he asks.

Buck turns, smiling. He's wearing a threadbare and clingy zip-up hoodie and black jeans, and his hair is curly from the shower. He looks gorgeous, and Eddie feels himself relax a little just getting to watch him.

"Thanks," he says, a little awkwardly.

"For what?" Buck asks curiously.

"Just being you. It's pretty great."

Eddie's treated to a megawatt grin at that, and Buck comes around the counter to hug him again and kiss his head and scratch the back of his neck lightly. "I know you had a bad day, Eddie," he sighs, squeezing a little, "but you're here now. You don't have to pretend anything."

"I know. Thank you."

Buck pulls back. "Go start the PlayStation," he suggests. "I'll get the rice on and we can play a few rounds of something."

Eddie nods, stands up, and heads towards the living room. He's happy to take direction at the moment, and Buck seems to know that intuitively. He's decision fatigued at the best of times, so someone else calling the shots sounds great.

Somewhere in the distance, there's a crack, then a bang. Eddie sees a red streak through the industrial window, and he stops, staring at it.

It's followed by another, and another. Closer and closer to Buck's apartment, and on a normal day, fireworks would be stressful and Eddie would have to talk himself out of totally losing his shit, but today's not a normal day, today's a horrible day, his nerves are frayed to the point of non-existence and his brain swiftly takes itself offline.

"Eddie?" he hears Buck call out, his voice alarmed.

A crack splits the sky, and Eddie hears yelling in the street below. His hands fly up over his ears and he sinks - the walls of Buck's apartment wobble and Eddie slams his eyes shut when it makes him dizzy, only to be greeted with sand on the other side.

He slips. His army fatigues scratch and itch and the sand burns even through the fabric. There's no break in the gunfire or chaos, and next to him, someone is dead in the sand. The sky is piercingly blue, so blue it hurts, everything hurts. The adrenaline has turned him wild and his vision is tunnelled in on Vasquez and Jacobs, pinned, five hundred yards away.

"Eddie, it's me! It's Buck!"

There's sand and there's blood and there's ash drifting down in the air - fire. The sand is clumped up beneath the fingers of his left hand, clutching the spot a marine used to be, he doesn't know which marine. The sun pelts down and he's drenched with sweat, feels the scratch of his fatigues sticking to him and the rapid-fire expanding of his ribs with his laboured breathing-

"Eddie, c'mon, it's me," a voice says. "Eddie-"

"-we have to find a way out of here, Diaz, or the whole squad is-"

"Eddie, baby, it's me. It's Buck, it's me, you're safe-"

The voice bleeds out. The sand is coarse and hot, burns his hands, the gunfire is so loud his head rattles with it, does every time. There's blood in the sand and a dead man lying next to him and Jacobs and Vasquez, screaming for help. Pinned. _Pinned._

He's their medic and he can't leave them to die. There's already - God so many bodies lying around, bodies of his friends, people who might as well be his brothers-

"Eddie, you're having a flashback. You're in my apartment with me-"

A touch to his shoulder. His brain translates it, rapid fire - danger, enemy, death - and his body follows along mindlessly, a hand on a throat and a body under his, the impact of it hitting a wall.

He blinks. The sand swims.

"Eddie, you're safe," the voice whispers. "C'mon, come back to me."

Wall. Soft cotton beneath his fingertips. Warm, dry skin, pale throat, no blood. Brick veneer. The smell of raisin toast and a crisp, clean aftershave.

"Eddie, it's okay. That's it. That's it. You're not there anymore. It was a flashback, Eddie."

Buck's warm, gentle voice, penetrating the fog around him. Blue eyes. Birthmark.

He snaps back into reality.

They're in Buck's apartment. There's no sand anywhere. There are cool tiles under his feet and it's dark out, and he's got Buck pinned to the wall by his-

He lets go, takes several steps back, throat closed with horror. He had his hand on Buck's throat, his fucking throat, he could have-

"Eddie," Buck says, softly. He reaches out. "C'mon, don't back away from me. Come here. Are you with me? You were having a flashback."

Eddie doesn't come closer, and Buck doesn't move either. He seems to know, instinctively, that Eddie has to come to him. He doesn't even look afraid, just worried, and Eddie's eyes track desperately over his throat, looking for marks.

"Fireworks," he whispers, swallowing.

"I figured." Buck's keeping his voice low and even. Calm. "Will you come over here?"

He does, reluctantly. He's surprised when Buck folds him into a hug and holds him gently, pressing his lips to Eddie's temple. "Hey," he whispers. "It's okay. You're safe."

Eddie leans his head back, desperate for a good look at Buck's neck. There's no marks, no bruises, nothing - nothing to suggest he ever had his hand there in the first place, except he felt it, right? He felt Buck try to touch him and reacted, knows he did, knows the impact of Buck's body hitting the wall behind him.

Eddie gulps in a breath. "I'm sorry," he says, voice rattling. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Hey, hey," Buck murmurs, taking Eddie's face in his hands. "It's okay, Eddie. You didn't hurt me. I shouldn't have tried to touch you." Buck puts his forehead on Eddie's gently, breathing in. "Easy, easy. You think I'd ever think you'd hurt me on purpose?"

Buck wouldn't think that. And Eddie wouldn't do it. He'd never hurt Buck deliberately. "I wouldn't-"

"I know, Eddie, shhh." Buck is pressing his thumbs gently into the soft points at the base of Eddie's ears, which is oddly relaxing - intimate. "Tell me what you see. Tell me five things you see."

"You." Eddie knows what's going on here. "The brick wall. The kitchen." He takes a breath. "Your bookshelf. Your birthmark." He raises a hand to touch it, because it's different, and it grounds him. Nobody in Afghanistan had any kind of mark like this on their face. Buck lets him, unflinching.

"Four thing you can feel," he coaxes. Eddie swallows. "You can do this, Eddie."

"Your t-shirt." It's soft; he bunches it in his hand. "The brick wall again. That painting." He lets his eyes slide over it. "You."

"You're cheating," Buck whispers, and he even smiles a little, which helps Eddie relax marginally. "What can you hear?"

"Your washing machine. The TV. Traffic."

"Mmhm. What can you smell? Just two things. I'll leave you alone, I promise."

Eddie highly doubts it, but he plays along regardless. "Cinnamon rolls," he breathes, licking his lips. He's beginning to feel a lot less shaky, now, more grounded, more certain of where he is. "You."

Buck tilts his head slightly to the side, gives him a sweet, lingering kiss before pulling away. "One thing you can taste."

"You," Eddie says, trying to keep his voice from cracking. He's not five years old and waking up from a nightmare, except he's standing in Buck's perfectly warm apartment, shivering like a dog left out in the cold and feeling woozy from the adrenaline rush, and he kind of feels exactly like a five year old waking up from a nightmare.

"You definitely cheated," Buck says, but he's still smiling. "I came up at least five or six times." He pulls Eddie in closer, sighing. "You're okay now, Eddie."

Eddie knows he's being baited into discussion, but he gives into it, because Buck is too loving to be part of any of his fucked up flashbacks or hallucinations. "Well, you're kind of right here," he says, and it's meant to come out light but it comes out uncertain, like he's really not sure. "Let me - let me see your neck, please-"

"You didn't hurt me, Eddie," Buck says quietly, and lifts Eddie's hand to his neck. "See? I startled you. That's it. You reacted. You're okay now, yeah? We're okay."

He feels his eyes well up, blinks desperately to try and get them to fucking stop. "Buck, I'm so fucking sorry, I wouldn't - I'd never-"

"I know, Eds, shh," Buck whispers. "C'mon, don't make me do the grounding thing again. I'll make you not cheat this time, you'll have to pick something that isn't me and then half your options will be gone."

Eddie chokes on a laugh that sounds like it should've been a sob. "Buck... God, I feel stupid. They're _fireworks_. I was fine on New Year's eve. You must think this is ridiculous."

"Do you think it's ridiculous when I hide in the bathroom because I have a nightmare and need you to speak to me in a language I don't even understand to know where I am?" Buck challenges.

"No. You know I don't."

"Exactly. And I don't think the fireworks triggering you is stupid, either." Buck kisses his head. "C'mon, let's go sit down. You look wiped out."

"Buck," Eddie says, exhausted and ready to fold into the floor. "I'm gonna go to bed. I'm sorry. I know you had other stuff planned-"

Buck kisses him, again, and all the kisses are really going straight to Eddie's tear ducts. "Want me to come with you?" he asks quietly.

"Buck, it's nine at night. I know you don't need-"

"That's not what I asked. You want me to come with you, or should I leave you alone?"

Nothing sounds worse than being alone right now, truthfully. He's never wanted someone specific around after a flashback - even when he was with Shannon, he was worried he'd scare or hurt her, or that she'd think less of him or want to talk. He always wanted someone who was just - there, not necessarily doing anything, just making sure he wasn't on his own.

"I can watch something on my laptop," Buck adds quietly. "I don't need to sleep or anything. Just be there."

"Yeah," Eddie says, and Buck brightens like he's pleased by the idea that he gets to be Eddie's babysitter for the night. "You - you really don't have to-"

"I want to if you want me there," Buck says seriously.

Eddie nods wordlessly.

"Okay, cool. I'll just turn everything off."

Eddie doesn't go upstairs. He waits for Buck to finish turning off all the lights and the TV and lock and bolt the front door and shut the windows. He sighs with relief when they're plunged into darkness, because he's never experienced anything as bright as that day in the sand with the blood.

"C'mon," Buck says.

He follows Buck upstairs like a puppy and brushes his teeth mechanically, washes his face, and then settles into bed. Buck props himself up against the headboard with some pillows and opens his laptop, and even though Eddie knows he's going to fade into sleep very, very shortly, he risks scooting close enough that he can toss an arm over Buck's hips and rest his head near his thigh, on the pillow.

"You sure this doesn't bother you?" Buck checks. "I can just lie down with you."

"It doesn't." Eddie yawns. "Thanks, Buck."

"Anytime." Buck leaves a hand in Eddie's hair. "Wake me up if you need something, okay?"

"Okay."

~*~

When he wakes, it's still pitch black out.

He blinks his eyes open blearily, trying to work out what it is that's woken him. He's not panicked, not in a state of flux, he's warm and he's dry and there's nothing tugging at his mind.

The bed rustles. Buck sighs somewhere nearby, tucking himself closer to Eddie's body. The breeze through the open window shifts, throws Buck's scent towards him - crisp, woody. Like what it used to smell like when it had rained, back in Texas, and he was the first to disturb the earth and trees at his favourite hiking spot.

Buck moves languidly. He's asleep, clearly, just moving a little closer to Eddie's body warmth, away from the window. That's when Eddie notices that Buck's shivering, and that he's got most of the blankets and the duvet.

He sits, clumsily, pawing in the darkness for a corner, and tosses the duvet back over Buck. The shivering ceases after a few seconds, and Buck mumbles, "Hmm," and then tugs Eddie closer like it's his job to be Buck's personal teddy bear for the night. The weight of Buck's arm and thigh over his chest and hips grounds him to the bed, to the present.

He can't say he minds being a teddy bear, exactly.

"Y'okay?" Buck breathes into the side of his neck. Eddie's eyes prickle a little - Buck's just verged back into consciousness, it sounds like, and his first thought is to ask if Eddie's okay and Eddie - well, Eddie can't say he remembers being this loved.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Go back to sleep."

"Hm. Love you."

Eddie's throat constricts. He still hasn't said it back. He still doesn't know how to. Buck's already asleep again, and Eddie knows he doesn't expect anything - but God, he deserves to know. Especially after tonight.

"Night, Buck," he whispers.

~*~

When he wakes again, it's light out, and he's alone in Buck's bed.

He does wake up knowing where he is - bonus. He doesn't think he dreamed, either, another bonus.

He sits up, rubs his face exhaustedly. He doesn't need to wonder where Buck's gone - he's not sure how or why he knows it, but every fibre of his being knows that Buck wouldn't have left him alone in the apartment after last night. He'll be nearby, just being quiet.

He gets out of bed. He's wearing boxers and a t-shirt, but both of them aren't enough to guard against the morning chill, and while Buck has moved his bag upstairs and left it where Eddie can see it, he's uninterested in his own clothes, his own scent, his own trauma clinging to him like a vice.

He strips out of his t-shirt and leaves it on his bag, then makes his way over to Buck's closet, rubbing his hands on his thighs. Buck won't care, but he's never in his life done anything this - well, this needy, frankly.

It doesn't stop him from finding a pair of Buck's sweats and one of his long-sleeved shirts, which is just shy of well fitting all over his body and particularly baggy around the chest and back area. He knows Buck is decidedly more solid than he is, especially in the trunk area, but this feels silly.

He almost changes until he catches Buck's scent from the shirt, and then he can't bring himself to. He steps into the bathroom instead, washes his face, and takes a deep breath before heading down the stairs to the living area. He's embarrassed about the night before, now, about the freakout and the early night and just - needing so much.

"Morning," Buck says, smiling.

He's in the kitchen, and the smell wafting from the stove makes Eddie sniff interestedly. He's hungry, which he supposes is good.

"Morning," he replies, stepping into the kitchen area quietly. "What time is it?"

"Around nine. You pretty much slept right through."

Buck's eyes flicker over him, taking in the outfit change. He doesn't say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitches happily, like he wants to or he's pleased by Eddie literally stealing his clothes.

"I made coffee," he says, gesturing. "Breakfast isn't far away."

Eddie steps further into the kitchen. He wants so desperately to be close to Buck and feels so horribly like he's asking too much, that he's taken too much already, that last night was more than what Buck was obligated to give to him.

Either Buck can see his dilemma or has decided that his own thin t-shirt isn't enough to guard him from the morning chill, because he turns slightly, holding out an arm. Eddie steps in after a moment's hesitation, and Buck reels him in close to press a kiss to his head.

"Let me know if you need anything?" he asks softly.

Eddie nods, more than happy to just lean on Buck and watch him cook. There's bacon and hash browns and eggs and fried tomato - Buck's really outdoing himself today, apparently.

Eddie turns his head, presses a kiss to Buck's jaw. Buck smiles so wide and snuggles in close enough that Eddie's convinced he'd purr if he was able to.

"Can I help?" he asks awkwardly. He loves Buck's love but sometimes he just - doesn't know what to do with all of it, doesn't know how to process it when he doesn't even feel like he deserves it most of the time.

"I've seen what you do to a frypan when you're left unattended," Buck teases. "You wanna grab some plates?"

"Yeah, okay." Eddie grabs plates, and then he finds cutlery, and then he's in the rhythm of getting set up for breakfast and finds mugs for the coffee and some glasses for the last of the orange juice in Buck's fridge. Soon enough, Buck's plating up breakfast, giving Eddie more of it than himself.

"Buck-"

"You didn't eat dinner," Buck says, which leaves absolutely no room for argument. "I might've eaten an entire bag of peanut M&M's while you were asleep."

He is hungry. And Buck's cooking is just - too good to pass up, really. So he digs in, and Buck chatters about - whatever it is he's chattering about, something about meteorites and other things he undoubtedly stayed up researching on his phone. Eddie files it all away for later, grateful that Buck doesn't expect him to talk.

He does eye Buck's neck a few times. But there still aren't marks.

"Um, Buck?" he asks.

"Yeah?" He's fairly sure Buck was just halfway through an explanation of sexual cannibalism in praying mantises, but he gives it up in favour of Eddie finally speaking.

"I just..." Eddie rubs his face. "I um, two things. I wanted to thank you for - last night, and this morning, and... thanks."

Buck smiles warmly. "It helped?"

"Yeah. It helped a lot." Eddie takes a shaky breath. "I normally have nightmares after a flashback. I didn't last night. But that's... that's what else I wanted to talk about."

Buck tilts his head.

"If I - if I ever pull that shit again, grab you by the neck or push you up against a wall or - sometimes I have nightmares and I start kicking and lashing out - don't let me hurt you, okay? It's not - I don't want to, and I can't - it sounds like such a cop out answer but I can't control it, when I'm like that, I know Matt probably-"

"Hey," Buck says fiercely, pulling his chair forward so he can grab Eddie's face in his hands. "You are nothing like Matt. Listen to me, Eddie. You are not Matt. Matt chose to scare the shit out of me. You didn't scare me, I was worried about you, and I touched you when I probably shouldn't have. You reacted."

"I don't care," Eddie croaks. "You can't let me do that, Buck. I don't ever want to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me, Eddie," Buck says softly. "You pinned me. It didn't hurt, I swear, you didn't even leave a mark. You just startled me, that's it." He takes a deep breath in. "But if it makes you feel better, I won't," he says. "If you start - I don't know, whaling on me for whatever reason - I'll stop you, okay? I'll try to stop you."

Eddie relaxes, marginally. Buck is bigger than him. Buck can stop him if he has to. "Thanks."

Buck sighs, watching him with those big, sympathetic blue eyes. "Rough week, huh?"

Eddie nods. "I was fine on New Year's Eve, so I just... thought I'd be fine."

"Stress and triggers and not being somewhere familiar," Buck shrugs. "I'm the same. Sometimes I'm fine and sometimes I'm not. It's shit, huh?"

He knows Buck really does get it. Buck doesn't talk about some of the worst stuff he's seen, even though Eddie knows he must see it. Buck keeps him and Chris safe from it, as much as he can, holds it all inside where it can't spill out and sear acid marks into the fabric of their own lives.

"Yeah, it's shit," Eddie agrees. "Thanks for breakfast."

"Is it okay?"

"It's great," Eddie admits. "I didn't realise how hungry I was. Even with you talking about sexual cannibalism..."

"Maybe the praying mantises have a point," Buck says. "Maybe it's best to just eat your partner and not have to worry about arguments over whether or not you're gonna co-sleep."

"I don't think praying mantises co-sleep, or think about that, Buck."

"Do you know that for sure? Have you asked one?"

It takes Eddie another five minutes to realise he's been coaxed out of his self-abuse by Buck's ridiculous argument, and that Buck likely knew what he was doing the entire time. He sighs, pins Buck with a patented _I know exactly what you're doing_ expression, and says, "Well played."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Buck says innocently.


	21. Deference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 21, featuring competent firefighter buck (who i love dearly). also featuring some harsh realisations that were much needed and will be expanded upon in later chapters!
> 
> thank you to everyone who sent me love for Not Done and who messaged me on twitter or tumblr. it meant the world <3
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5. i don't bite!

"I need help," is the first thing Buck says when he calls early Saturday morning.

"What?" Eddie asks, alarmed, and Chris looks up from the table curiously. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Dad?" Chris asks worriedly.

"What?" Buck asks. "No - I accidentally adopted a cat."

Eddie pauses to let the situation catch up with him. It's early Saturday morning. Buck has accidentally adopted a cat. It's a very Buck thing to do, but Eddie is totally confused. "Um... you what?"

"Can you just," Buck whines, "I just need help."

Eddie rubs his face. "Okay," he says. "I'll be right over with Chris."

~*~

Chris, of course, is completely fucking delighted that Buck has a cat.

When Eddie opens the door to Buck's apartment, he's met with an alarmed shout and a giggling Chris as Buck lunges to scoop something vaguely grey and white coloured off the ground.

"Jesus," Eddie says, alarmed. "Are you okay?"

"He's desperate to explore the staircase," Buck explains, panting. "Eddie, Christopher, I'd like you to meet Concrete."

"He's awesome," Chris gushes at the same time Eddie says, "You named your cat _Concrete?_ "

"He was already named that!" Buck protests. "Chris, you wanna hold him? He's super cuddly."

"Yes!"

Sure enough, the moment Buck deposits the cat in Chris's arms, it's purring and butting his chin happily. "Buck," Eddie sighs while Chris is distracted, "how... what?"

"Okay, so Maddie and Chimney went to the shelter to look for a kitten," Buck says. "And I went with them even though I knew it was a bad idea because whenever I see animals I cry. Every time I see them on TV around holidays I want to go out and adopt all of them-"

"Anyway," Eddie says pointedly.

"Anyway, they were walking ahead and I saw this little guy all curled up in his cage," Buck says, "and he wasn't moving or anything and I went right up to him and he came up to the bars to look at me, so I asked if I could hold him because he looked sad, and when they let him out he walked right up to me and sat in my lap and I sort of adopted him."

Eddie has to smile. Buck's got a huge heart, made of solid gold, and he wouldn't trade it for anything. Was it wise? Maybe not. But he has no doubt that Concrete the cat is about to have the most amazing life any cat has ever had.

"Buck, what happened to his leg?" Chris asks.

Eddie looks down. Chris has put Concrete on the ground, and the cat is rubbing itself all over Buck's legs - walking on only three of its own. It's missing the front left at the stump.

"He got hit by a car," Buck explains. "But he's okay now. He just needs some love."

Concrete notices Eddie, then, and blinks up at him slowly before stretching up on his hind legs - wobbling a little - and putting his front paw on Eddie's knee, meowing loudly. Eddie smiles as he bends to pick the cat up, and it snuggles right into his shoulder. He's grey and white with big gold eyes, and he looks a little stupid, but he's sweet.

"See? Isn't he great?" Buck asks. "The shelter said he'd been there for over a year. I know it was dumb, Eddie, but I couldn't leave him there."

Eddie leans over to give Buck a quick kiss, mindful of the cat rubbing itself on his cheek. "You're a good man," he says quietly. "It wasn't dumb."

Buck blushes and smiles. "Do you like him?"

"I don't think it matters if I like him, he's decided he likes me," Eddie laughs.

"Which is great!" Buck says. "Anyway, I need to go to PetCo."

"Brrr," Concrete agrees.

~*~

Petco with Buck and Christopher is like a candy shop with a group of excited children.

Eddie has learned two things today: Buck's heart is somehow even bigger than Eddie had thought it was initially, and that he has all the impulse control of Eddie's seven year old son. The moment he's loose in Petco, he's grabbed a basket and is off with Christopher.

When they walk out, Buck is an astonishing amount of money poorer and Concrete is unknowingly the most spoiled three-legged cat on the face of the planet. They have two cat trees, a hammock, something that screws into the wall as a place to sit in the sun, a water bubbler, so many toys Eddie lost count, a collar, and, maybe the most ridiculous - a leash and harness.

"I mean, can you even walk a cat on a leash?" Eddie wonders.

"He wants to explore the staircase!" Buck protests.

"Yeah, but - I mean, do cats walk on leashes? Is that a thing they do?"

"I mean, they sell cat harnesses. So I guess so?"

He and Buck are constructing one of the two cat trees while Chris lavishes Concrete with love. The cat is definitely not all that bright - he still hasn't worked out that Chris is hiding the toy behind his back periodically - but he's a friendly cat, and he seems happy in Buck's apartment.

"This is a huge cat tree," Eddie says, screwing in the top piece as Buck holds the bottom steady. "Does he need two?"

"Cats mark their territory with scent glands in their paws," Buck says, and of course he knows that. Research, one of Buck's favourite pastimes, does come in fairly useful for day to day knowledge. "so I thought he would need one for upstairs and downstairs."

Concrete - apparently tiring of playing for the moment - wanders over, looks at the cat tree, and stretches up to sharpen the claws of his remaining front paw. He's purring aggressively, and he wobbles a little as he scratches, but he seems content.

"He likes it!" Buck says, pleased.

"He might need some practice," Eddie says as Concrete takes a leap, overshoots, and falls off the other side of the platform.

"He's just clumsy," Buck coos. "He'll get the hang of it."

The cat wanders away, looking a bit wounded, to Chris, where he already seems to know there is endless affection to be had. Buck looks to Eddie.

"Have you heard anything from Liam?" he asks.

"No," Eddie sighs. "You?"

"Nothing." Buck chews his lip. "Athena said they're working on it, but couldn't tell me anything else, obviously. I just... I hope he's okay."

Eddie nods. Short of storming into Liam's house, there's not a lot they can do except continue to try and get him out of there, and Eddie doesn't know how hard to push - if he pushes too hard, Liam's dad might take it out on him and his mom.

Buck flops over onto his back, sighing, onto the floor. "Being an adult sucks sometimes," he says.

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. Welcome to parenthood."

Buck turns his head and gives this shy little smile before Eddie can stumble or take it back or try to make him feel less awkward - and with it, he realises he doesn't have to take it back. Buck doesn't mind him inferring that Buck's as good as Chris's second parent.

"It's not all bad," Buck smiles.

"Nah," Eddie says, watching Chris cuddle Concrete to his shoulder, "it's not."

~*~

The thing that really sucks about Buck's shift work is that they don't see each other nearly as much as Eddie would like.

He kisses Buck goodbye on Friday morning as Buck is heading in for a twenty-four hour shift. Buck had slept over (again) and while Eddie is always happy to see Buck in his house, he's always a little sad to watch him go.

"Come over after you're finished?" he asks.

Buck smiles, even as he rifles around for his LAFD t-shirt. "I have to feed Concrete," he says apologetically. "Besides, I just... I don't want you to feel like you have to entertain me, Eddie. You've got a lot on your plate right now."

He does, between training for the physical assessment test and getting all his medical clearance forms in order - and parenting, and hosuekeeping, and work - and he's sure this ties into his little breakdown the other day. That Buck is trying to give him space to rest.

He walks over, pulls the shirt out of Buck's hands, and pulls him into a kiss. Buck's hair is getting a little longer and Eddie combs his fingers through the short curls at the back, smiling when Buck sighs happily.

"I don't feel like I have to entertain you," he says softly. "You actually kind of are my stress relief. I like having you here."

Buck, predictably, lights up at that. "Well," he says, "I um, I could bring Concrete over? He likes car trips."

Eddie doesn't point out that Buck has adopted a cat that thoroughly does not know how to be a cat, because he has kind of a soft spot for the thing. "Yeah. Just let yourself in, make yourself at home. Chris and I are headed to abuela's for breakfast, but we'll be home by lunchtime."

"Okay," Buck says cheerfully, and finally seizes his shirt from Eddie's hands. "I know I'm gorgeous, Eddie, but I can't go into work like this. It's not fair on anyone else."

Eddie barks a surprised laugh and lets the shirt go. Buck gets dressed and does his hair and soon enough he's out the door, and Eddie is somehow already waiting for him to come back.

~*~

"Is Buck gonna come over?" Chris asks.

Eddie glances in the rearview mirror. Chris is beaming back at him, as usual. They're driving out to see abuela, and the sky is blue and the water beneath the bridge they're on is gorgeous and still.

"Yeah, buddy, Buck's going over to our place when he finishes his shift," Eddie says.

Abruptly, Chris's face becomes a pout. "Why can't we stay home and wait for Buck?" he whines. "I wanna see him."

"I know you do, mijo, but your abuela hasn't seen you in a while. She misses you. Besides, Buck's gonna be really tired and he's probably going to go straight to bed." Eddie doesn't let his brain linger on the thought of coming home to Buck curled up in his sheets like he belongs there. "So we wouldn't be able to talk to him anyway."

"Sleep is dumb," Chris grumbles.

"Well," Eddie laughs, "you got me there. But we still need it."

"Buck's a superhero. He doesn't need sleep."

Eddie thinks of the way Buck's brain goes offline whenever he's more sleep deprived than what he's used to and bites back a smile. "Even superheroes need sleep, Chris. Besides, when we get home he'll be awake. Maybe he'll even play Animal Crossing with you."

Sure enough, Chris's eyes light up at that, and the petulant frown is gone. He's growing more into his own and while Eddie knows he can't be his baby forever, who's always smiling and happy and ready to laugh, he wishes he could be. That Chris wouldn't have to go through the belligerent phase.

"Do you think he'll help me collect bugs for Blathers?" Chris asks, like Eddie has any idea who Blathers is. "It's fun to watch him get scared."

"You know, I'm sure he-"

The bridge shudders. Ahead, there's a blare of a car horn, and then the unmistakable sound of two cars impacting each other at high speed. Eddie registers, in slow motion, a plume of what looks like smoke rising into the air, and the landscape shakes like they're in a bottle and being shaken.

The cars in front of him begin to swerve. A crack rises in the pavement and Eddie hits the brake, trying to bring them to a gradual stop, and Chris says, "Daddy, what's-"

The bus driving next to them screams to a halt, and the car shudders as they scrape against the concrete balustrades. He feels his head knock against the glass of his window, and when he opens his eyes, everything is still.

There are car horns blaring. Smoke rises into the air. He's sure he can hear screaming somewhere.

"Chris?" he demands, turning in his seat and ignoring any injuries he might have. "Are you okay?"

Chris is crying, but he nods, and Eddie can't see any marks on him. He's holding Eddie's phone in one hand - he'd been playing some kind of game on it.

"Chris, can I have the phone?" Eddie asks. "It's okay, mijo, we're okay. We're okay. We'll get out of here."

He calls 9-1-1, trying to take inventory as he does so. They're wedged between the side of the bridge and the bus, which has come to a halt almost in their lane. Even if Eddie wanted to move, there's no way for them to get out of the car - no doors will open like this, and he has no way to smash the glass of the windshield.

"Hello, 9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"Hi," Eddie says. "My name's Eddie Diaz, I was crossing the Queensway Twin Bridges just now and - I think there's been a really serious accident up ahead."

"Eddie?" the voice asks, and Eddie suddenly registers that he recognises it - it's Maddie, he realises faintly, and what are the chances. "You've been in a car accident?"

"Hey, Maddie," Eddie says. "Yeah, um - I can't see much, but I think it's serious."

"Okay, focus on yourself for a second," she says gently. "Is it just you in the car?"

"Me and Chris," Eddie confirms. "We're not hurt, but we are trapped. There was a bus on one side and we're in the far right lane - we can't get out of either door."

"Right, okay," Maddie says. "Can you tell me what you see?"

He cranes his neck, feels his stomach curl when he realises there's an actual hole in the bridge and that there are cars in the water. He can hear screaming, now, and people yelling for help.

"It's bad, Maddie," he says. "There are cars in the water up ahead. The bridge must've collapsed. Uh - there's a lot of smoke. I think you're gonna need to send a lot of people."

"Okay. Okay, hang in there, we've got people on the way," Maddie says. "Eddie... is Buck...?"

"He was working this morning," Eddie says. "He should be at my place. He's not with us."

"Okay." He hears her swallow. "Just - stay on the line-"

"Maddie, other people need your help," Eddie says calmly. "Chris and I are fine. We can wait for someone to come get us."

"Right." Her voice is clipped, back into what must be professional mode. "Good luck, Eddie."

"Thanks," he says, and forces himself to hang up. Keeping Maddie on the line will do nothing but choke up all the calls they're undoubtedly getting right now, from people hurt worse than them.

"Was that Auntie Maddie?" Chris asks timidly.

"Sure was, pal. She's sending us help." Eddie turns to smile at him, puts a hand on his knee. "All we gotta do is wait. Buck's friends will come get us out."

Chris nods. He's not crying anymore, but he's not happy either. "What about Buck?" he asks timidly.

"Buck's finished up at work, buddy," Eddie says, distracted by the sounds of sirens already approaching, although he's not exactly sure that's true. "He's fine, he's at home."

Chris nods. Eddie keeps up a stream of conversation as they sit there, and the bridge shudders a few times with what must be structural issues. What the hell happened? Did the entire thing just collapse?

"Earthquakes are scary," Chris says, and that's when Eddie realises that that's exactly what it was - an earthquake.

"I know, pal," he says sympathetically. "But we're okay in here, and-"

There's a crashing noise nearby, the sound of shattering glass, and then footsteps in the bus. Eddie turns to Chris and smiles. "See? Someone's coming to-"

"Eddie?"

He whips his head up. Buck's leaning through the bus window, in full turnout gear, staring at him.

"Buck? What are you doing here?" he asks dumbly.

"Are you serious?" Buck asks hysterically. "I'm _working_ , what the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

"Bucky said a bad word," Chris says from the back.

Buck's eyes widen. "Holy shit, Eddie, is Chris-?"

"Buck, we aren't hurt, but we can't get out," Eddie says. "I think it's worse up ahead - there's been, I dunno, it felt like an earthquake."

"Magnitude of seven point one," Buck says, his eyes scanning the car. "You're sure you're not hurt?"

"Yeah, Buck, we're okay, I promise."

"Okay. Hang tight." He leans up a little to access his radio. "Bobby, clear Hen and Chim - passengers of this car are trapped but they're not hurt. I'll do a trauma assessment to make sure and get them out, don't need any backup."

Bobby's voice crackles back over the radio, and while Eddie can't hear exactly what he says, he does see Buck hesitate, his eyes ghosting over Eddie and Chris. Eddie stares back at him. He knows Buck is a good firefighter, that he breathes and bleeds the job, and he has total faith in Buck's ability to get them out of here.

"Two males, an adult and kid," Buck responds, and then, softly, "it's Eddie and Chris, Cap. Don't tell me to leave, because I'm not going to."

With that, he abandons the radio and fishes at his side for his Halligan bar.

"Okay," he says. "Not gonna lie to you, Eddie, it's looking pretty nasty out there." He looks at Chris, then continues without detailing exactly what looks nasty. "I can't get you out through the front of the car or the back - you're totally boxed in. But uh, what I'm thinking is, I can smash the glass to your window and you guys can climb out through the bus - there's a back exit that isn't blocked."

He pauses. Chris is quiet in the back, seeming to know that this is serious and that he needs to let them both talk. He's stopped crying, which is either good or extremely bad - Eddie can't work out which.

"Eddie, the bus has people in it," Buck says softly.

Eddie reads between the lines. The bus has people in it, and Buck didn't stop to help them, which means they're dead, and their only way out is past them.

"Okay," he says calmly. "Tell me what I need to do."

"Scoot over to the passenger side and shield your face," Buck instructs. "I'm smashing the window in."

Eddie does, making sure that Chris is as well, in the back seat, and hears the glass shatter under the force of Buck's blow. In any other circumstance, the force and strength would be kinda hot, but right now, Eddie's just worried.

"How many people are hurt?" he asks.

Buck hesitates. "I don't know."

He's lying, Eddie thinks, but doesn't push the issue. He needs to let Buck work and do his job and get them the fuck out of here, and then he needs to convince the 118's crew to let him help. He's a trained medic, and he knows he can do it - he just doesn't know if they'll let him.

Buck leans in precariously. The height difference between the bus's windows and the car's are awkward, but they're lucky enough that they've more or less come to a stop where the bus's doors are. Buck can reach them - it just won't be easy.

"Hey, Chris," Buck says softly. "How're you doing back there, buddy?"

"I'm okay," Chris sniffles. "Are you gonna save us?"

"I sure am." Buck takes a deep breath, as if he's about to say something he knows they won't like. "Eddie, you first."

"What?" Eddie snaps. "No, take Chris, he's a kid-"

"Eddie," Buck says calmly, "I'm not leaving Chris standing on the bus by himself while I free you, okay? I need you to go first so I can hand Chris to you. I'm not gonna argue."

Eddie's always trusted Buck with his own life, but it's so, so hard to trust anyone with Chris's. He knows Buck is trained for this - for hard decisions - but what if something happens, and the bridge gives even more, and Chris is trapped in the car alone?

"Eddie," Buck says desperately, "I promise I won't let anything happen to him. Now come on, we're running out of time. There could be an aftershock coming."

Eddie turns to Chris. "I'll see you in five minutes, mijo, okay?" he asks shakily. "Buck's gonna hand you right to me. It's gonna be fine."

"Okay, Dad," Chris whispers. "I'll be brave."

He pats Chris's cheek before forcing himself to move, to take Buck's hand and slip awkwardly through the car window. As they're moving, Buck's radio crackles to life.

"Everyone call in," Bobby's voice says. "How're we doing?"

Buck clicks his radio. "Buckley, one civilian out, one more to go. No injuries." His voice is clipped, professional, as he speaks, and soon enough Eddie is standing on the steps of the bus, squashed almost chest-to-chest with Buck.

"Okay," Buck says. "Look, Eddie, it's messy back there, I'm not gonna lie. I'm gonna tie something around Chris's face so he doesn't have to look, and hand him straight off to you. I'll get us out."

"I know," Eddie says. "I know you will."

This time, when Buck goes in, he really goes in. With Eddie out of the front seat, he's got more room to manoeuvre, and he climbs right into the car.

"Okay, Chris," Buck says, false cheerful. "Let's do this. Can you unbuckle your seatbelt?"

Chris replies. Eddie turns to look at the bus, noting that there were only a few passengers. The first two and the driver, at the front, have gone completely through the windshield, and the one sitting at the back has been thrown clean from her seat, all the way down the aisle, and is crumpled at the end. Her neck is twisted, eyes open and unseeing.

His gut lurches. They're only alive because Eddie had started slowing down with the shocks, because they were lucky enough to be next to the concrete balustrades.

"Eddie," Buck says.

He turns back, swallowing. Chris is climbing through the gap between the front seats with Buck helping him, and Buck has fished a handkerchief from Eddie's glovebox. He ties it around Chris's face as he keeps up his murmuring, then pulls Chris close to him and shuffles over broken glass to get to the window.

"Careful," Eddie says, vaguely alarmed. "You're on blood thinners."

"I won't get cut in this." Buck inches Chris carefully through the window, and Eddie manages to grab him on the other side. The relief he feels at finally having his son in his arms is almost too good - he almost falls from relief, feels his knees shake.

Buck manages to climb out of the car without cutting himself and takes a deep breath in. Eddie wants to hug him, but he's working and so clearly in firefighter mode they can't afford to disrupt it.

"I'm gonna tether you to me," he tells Eddie. "And I'm gonna tether myself to part of the bridge. We're just gonna follow the line out. The ambulance isn't far away, but I don't wanna risk losing you guys in the aftershocks."

"Got it," Eddie says. Chris clings to him, but one hand searches for Buck, and Buck pauses just long enough to kiss Chris's head before roping Eddie to him.

"Buckley," he says into the radio.

"Go ahead," Bobby's voice comes.

"Got both civilians, Cap. We're on the way out."

"What about the people in the bus?"

Buck swallows. "No survivors, Cap."

"Understood. Get them out."

Buck moves, and Eddie follows along with the tug on his waist. Buck's stepping carefully and headed to the back doors of the bus, settled between the two back seats. He's had to break that as well, but Eddie can see portions of clear road up ahead. He doesn't even want to know what's at the front that Buck would risk taking them out through the much smaller side windows of the car.

"Where's Hen and Chim?" he asks. "Bobby?"

"We've all been designated areas of the bridge to clear," Buck says, helping Eddie down from the back step carefully. "This area is mine. Once I get you guys to the ambulance I'm gonna have to go back."

"No," Chris whimpers, surprising them both.

"Buddy, Buck's gotta help people," Eddie whispers, throat tight. "There's loads more people that need help."

Chris sniffles, and Buck looks at him helplessly. They're stepping through wreckage and there are bodies in cars and cars overturned and Eddie thinks, _how the fuck does anyone survive this?_

"Don't look, Eddie," Buck says shortly.

"I'm joining the LAFD, Buck, I'm not-"

"Eddie," Buck pleads, "avoid it where you can, man. If you can put off looking - don't look."

So he doesn't. He follows Buck all the way to the ambulance, cradling Chris in his arms, and is met with a few paramedics who have stayed behind to treat injured people.

"Initial trauma assessment is good," Buck says, unhooking his tether to Eddie. "I haven't been able to do a full one, but neck and spine are okay, both conscious on arrival with no loss before I was talking to them."

The paramedics start chattering away, and Eddie's throat closes when he sees Buck leave the ambulance. He has a responsibility to Chris, but God - he feels like he has a responsibility to everyone here, to try and help. To keep searching.

Just as they're getting checked over, there's a rap on the door of the ambulance, and Bobby sticks his head in. His expression - which had been tight and strained - relaxes a little when he sees Eddie and Christopher.

"Hey," he says. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine," Eddie says. "Where's Buck?"

"He's fine," Bobby says calmly.

"That's not what I asked," Eddie says. "I asked if-"

"Daddy, look," Chris says, pointing.

He leans out of the ambulance in time to spot Buck climbing up the side of the bridge, hand over hand, confident in his movements. Eddie has a brief moment where he does the math - puts together Buck's two hundred pounds of body weight plus what his kit weighs and the effort of having to climb, and almost freaks out. Thinks Bobby shouldn't let him do it because of his leg, and-

And snaps out of it. Buck is perfectly capable. He got medically cleared to come back to work. Eddie has to trust that Bobby wouldn't let him do this if he wasn't capable.

As he watches, Buck hooks himself onto the side of the bridge and begins to rappel down. Eddie can't see what he's trying to reach, and he's not really that concerned about it - he just watches, breath baited, as Buck begins a slow descent below.

Bobby must see him watching. "Buck is one of our best and brightest, Eddie," he says, with the tone of voice Eddie would expect to hear from a consoling father. "If anyone is going to pull off this rescue, it's him."

"I know," Eddie says, swallowing. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

~*~

They cart Eddie and Chris off to hospital as a precaution, but not before they see Buck rescue a little girl from the sunroof of a crashed car.

They're allowed to have their check-up together, which is good. What's less good is that Eddie's received a knock on the head - now that he's thinking about it, he does vaguely remember it smashing into the driver's side window when they crashed. Now, they won't let him leave until someone can take them both home, and the adrenaline has worn off entirely. His head fucking hurts, and by the time the tests have finally finished and they've been put in a temporary room, it's hours later.

He tries Pepa, but he can't get through to her, and his parents are back in Texas. Abuela doesn't really drive, and he's not about to ask her to fight her way through hours of traffic when there's been an earthquake, and there could be more aftershocks.

"We could try Buck?" Christopher asks hopefully.

"Buck's working, mijo," he mumbles exhaustedly. He's shit out of luck - everyone else he knows is either one of Buck's work friends or people who have their own families to be concerned about. "I'm sorry. We're gonna have to wait it out."

Not two seconds after he says it, his phone rings. He's surprised to see Buck's name scrolling across it and answers immediately.

"Buck?" he asks.

"Hey," Buck's voice says - he's hoarse, and he sounds tired. "Which hospital did they take you to?"

"Uh," Eddie says blankly. "Cedars-Sinai?"

"Okay." He hears a car door slam. "I'm on my way to pick you up."

"You're what?" Eddie asks, startled.

"The paramedics who dropped you off told me you have a concussion," Buck explains. "I figured they won't release you to yourself, and if I know you, you haven't asked anyone else because you don't want to worry them. I'm onto you, Diaz."

Eddie laughs, startling himself. He feels a little overwhelmed by the entire day, but especially by Buck going out of his way to come and get him. "You've worked a thirty hour shift," he protests. "Aren't you tired?"

He does hear Buck yawn. "Yeah," he says. "But I'm not gonna sleep until I see you both, so, you know."

He trails off, awkwardly, like he's said too much. Eddie squeezes Christopher closer to him and says, "We'll see you when you get here."

~*~

Chris is asleep at Eddie's side when Buck walks into his room.

The moment Eddie sees him, his entire body relaxes, freeing him from the weight of a worry he didn't realise he was carrying. "Hey," he says, sitting up a little even as his head throbs. "You're okay?"

"You're in hospital and you're asking me that?" Buck comes in and leans over him to kiss him gently. He tastes and smells like sweat, and Eddie realises that he's still wearing half his uniform - the LAFD button up over the black LAFD t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. He looks a little sooty and a lot tired.

"I mean, you worked a thirty hour shift," Eddie says, leaning his head back and smiling weakly. "You gotta be exhausted."

"Pfft. Sleep is for the weak." Buck climbs onto the bed with them, which shudders warningly underneath his weight. "How's Chris?" he whispers.

"Tired," Eddie says, yawning. "He's been knocked out since you called. Think he was just glad someone was coming to get us." He turns to get closer to Buck, who's put an arm around him and feels warm and solid and like home against his side. He smells pretty bad, but Eddie can't bring himself to care when he feels Buck press a kiss against his forehead.

"I'll spring you soon," Buck murmurs. "They're getting your discharge papers ready."

Eddie settles into him, lets Buck hold him for a long, long time. Buck might smell like sweat and smoke and gasoline, but underneath all that, he's familiar and warm and effectively blocking out the light that was hurting Eddie's eyes. He seems content to hold Eddie for as long as Eddie wants him to.

"Buck?" Chris's sleepy little voice comes.

"Hey, buddy," Buck whispers. "How're you doing?"

"You saved us," Chris says, bright with wonder. "We're gonna be okay."

"I guess I did, huh?"

"What's wrong with Daddy?"

"He's just tired, Chris. I think he's asleep."

"I'm not," Eddie mumbles, pulling away to blink up at Buck blearily. God, he's definitely tired enough to sleep. "I really would like a proper bed, though."

Buck huffs a laugh. "Mine is gonna have to do," he says apologetically. "The roads to your place are closed off. No damage to the area, but a lot of trees down."

"Yeah, that's fine," Eddie says sleepily. "Discharge papers?"

"They haven't finished them yet. You happy to be released to me?"

"Of course," Eddie yawns.

Buck pokes Chris's chest and whispers, "Hear that, Superman? I'm gonna be in charge tonight."

Christopher giggles. "Can we build forts? And make pancakes? And-"

"Chris," Eddie says, smiling but tired. "Buck's gonna have his hands full taking care of two of us, don't you reckon? And I don't wanna get left out of pillow forts."

"We'll build the fort around you, Dad," Chris says earnestly. "You can sleep but still be there!"

"You know," Buck says, heading off more brazen post-earthquake ideas, "Concrete could use some company tonight, Chris."

God, Buck's tripod cat with his stupid cement name. Eddie had somehow totally forgotten. But the idea of Buck's place sounds amazing - the softer mattress, warm bed, the idea that everything is open and visible and how sturdy the building is... and, well, Eddie currently doesn't have a car, anyway.

"Thanks for coming to get us, Buck," he says softly, and stretches up for a little kiss. "And for what it's worth, we weren't gonna sleep either."

Buck's eyes soften, and he tucks both of them closer until the nurse appears and lets him go home.

~*~

The drive back to Buck's place is spent in silence, almost.

Christopher falls asleep almost immediately, and Eddie's tired enough to drift as Buck navigates them away from the hospital. It had been a shock, to walk out into the wards and see just how many people were hurt, and now that Chris is asleep and Eddie's discharged, he can see the stress and grief etching itself into Buck's face.

They lost people today. Eddie can see it. He's glad Buck doesn't feel like he needs to hide it. It's finally sinking in - past all the wins of the day, there were clearly a few losses. More than a few losses.

When they get to Buck's, they sit in the car for a moment. Eddie reaches over and puts his hand on Buck's leg, gives it a squeeze, and then opens his door.

Buck gets Chris out of the car with such finesse and experience that Chris doesn't even stir, just rests his head on Buck's shoulder and allows himself to be carried. Buck - well, Buck has to be exhausted after a twenty four hour shift that ended in overtime, after pulling people - bodies - from cars, but he doesn't complain at the extra weight.

They're silent all the way up to Buck's apartment, staring at each other in the harsh fluorescent lights of the elevator. The building is untouched, it seems. Buck's eyes look bleached of colour under the halogen, like he's so tired he's started to physically fade.

"Hey," Eddie says.

Buck licks his lips. "Hey," he rasps back.

When they get in, Buck gets to work changing Chris into pyjamas and getting him settled into the spare room. Eddie has a shower, mindful of how his head hurts, how he aches, and feels so shitty by the time he climbs out that he goes searching for some of Buck's comfiest clothes as a matter of urgency.

He hits the jackpot with a pair of sweats and a thick black hoodie, and when he emerges from the staircase, Chris is asleep in the spare room and Buck has made them toasted sandwiches for dinner. Eddie's is laid out with a glass of orange juice and two Tylenol.

"Buck, you didn't have to cook," he says guiltily.

"We both need to eat," Buck replies, his voice a little flat. "I know you haven't had anything since this morning. Neither have I."

Eddie takes a few bites, drinks some juice, and has his tablets. He notices Buck is more murdering his sandwich than he is eating it and says, "Today must've been rough for you."

Buck gives him a vaguely haunted expression and shakes his head. "I don't wanna talk about it," he mumbles, and takes a bite of his sandwich.

He'll talk when he's ready, Eddie reminds himself. And really - they've both had a long day in completely separate ways. Eddie isn't keen to relive the experience either.

He stands up - he's finished, and Buck is as done as he's going to get, which doesn't necessarily make Eddie happy but isn't something he can change. Buck's eaten most of the sandwich, and doesn't look like he'll take any wheedling right now, so Eddie finishes it for him and heads to the sink.

"I'll do the dishes," he says. "Go shower."

"Don't," Buck mumbles tiredly. "You've got a concussion, Eddie, you need to rest. Leave 'em for the morning."

Eddie listens, but only because Buck sounds like he can't argue. He kisses Chris goodnight and then limps upstairs to the loft, where the shower is running, and climbs into Buck's bed after stripping off the hoodie. It's pretty clear to him that whatever euphoria Buck was holding onto at the hospital - whatever brave front he was putting up for Christopher - is rapidly fading, and Eddie doesn't blame him. He's been switched on and in life-saving mode for thirty hours, and now he's had to switch into caregiving mode.

He puts his head down on the pillow, sighing. The Tylenol has eased the headache, but he knows Buck will be waking him every three hours, and that makes it throb anew.

When Buck steps out, he looks marginally better - at least cleaner, anyway. He folds right into bed with Eddie and gathers Eddie into his arms, until Eddie's face is more or less at Buck's throat.

He inhales - Buck smells like Buck again, and Eddie feels himself calming, physically and emotionally. Buck's stroking the back of his neck gently, and he leans his head down to press a quick kiss to Eddie's head.

"I was so scared today," Buck admits. "When I broke the window of the bus and it was you in the car..."

"I'm okay, Buck," Eddie murmurs, kissing his neck. "We both are."

"You hit your head." Buck's voice wobbles. "You hit your head and I didn't even notice, I-"

"Buck, I'm not even bruised," Eddie says. "And even I didn't remember that I'd hit it. How were you supposed to know?"

Buck squeezes him tighter, but says nothing. Eddie finds the point between his shoulder blades that always releases tension if he rubs it with his knuckles and does just that, until Buck's shoulders relax a little bit.

"A lot of people died today, Eddie," Buck says, voice breaking. "And while I was watching it all I could think that if that'd been it, I didn't even - I didn't hug you or kiss you or anything, after. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Eddie whispers, continuing to rub Buck's shoulders even as he tenses up more. "Buck, hey, please don't be sorry. You got me and Chris out of there. You saved us." He kisses Buck's chin. "We're both tired. Why don't we sleep?"

"Okay. But I have to wake you up in three hours, you know the drill." There's quiet for a moment, and then Buck says, "Love you."

Eddie swallows and kisses Buck's throat and Buck holds him tighter like he knows what Eddie meant by it. He's sure things will feel better in the morning - but right now, his own head is heavy and the cut on his leg stings and he can feel the weight of Buck's grief and guilt and can't work out why he can't just spit out three words and let Buck know.

"Goodnight, Buck," he whispers instead.

~*~

When he wakes up, Concrete is sitting on his chest.

Eddie blinks, having momentarily forgotten that Buck even has a cat. It's right up in his personal space, huge gold eyes blinking slowly at him.

"Good morning, buddy," Eddie says softly, and reaches up to scratch under his chin. Concrete purrs, turning his head so Eddie can get all the good spots, and wobbles on his front leg. The accident must have been recent that the cat still isn't great at balancing.

"Where's Buck, huh?" he murmurs. Buck had woken him after three hours of sleep during the night, asked him some questions, and then let him pass out again. His head hurts, and his leg is throbbing - it'll be a miserable day, but he'll live.

"Brrr?" Concrete asks, then butts his head against Eddie's chin. The cat is cute, and affectionate, but fairly stupid, and Eddie picks him up and moves him before making to get out of bed.

The world swims, and he groans. He'd forgotten how much concussions really suck; it feels like there's a marching band playing aggressive jazz up there.

Concrete jumps off the bed and hobbles to the bathroom, where there's a light on and the door is slightly open. Eddie wobbles upright - Buck left his pills in there, he remembers, and he has to take a leak anyway.

He pushes open the door, bleary with sleep and pain, and finds Buck leaning on the counter, his head down. It jerks up when Eddie comes in, and he's shocked to see Buck openly crying.

"Hey," Buck chokes out. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No," Eddie says, so startled he has no choice but to answer. "Concrete did."

Buck nods, wipes his eyes, and straightens up, looking like it takes everything he has just to do so. "Sorry," he apologises. "I uh-"

Eddie steps forward, and Buck rushes to support him, gets his arms around Eddie's waist and holds him upright. "Buck," Eddie says softly, "it's okay, you're allowed to-"

"You got hurt, I should be thinking about you, I shouldn't be thinking about - it can wait, I should be-"

"Buck, _Buck_ ," Eddie soothes. "I'm fine, yeah? My head is killing me, but I'm fine. You don't..." He chews his lip. "You don't have to cry in the bathroom, querido, I don't want you to hide that. Whatever you saw yesterday... it had to have been bad."

Buck nods, sniffles, and pulls away. "But you-"

"Am fine," Eddie says firmly. "Once I take some Tylenol I'll be good as new." Eddie's never seen Buck like this after a shift - there was the one time a firefighter died, but he's never seen Buck cry about losing a patient, which means it had to have been - bad. Really really bad.

He lifts Buck's head and uses his sleeves to wipe the tears off Buck's face. "Buck, look at me," he says firmly.

Buck looks up. Eddie gives him a short kiss, then runs his hand over Buck's head. Buck trembles a little.

"You're allowed to feel things," Eddie says. "I'm sorry it was bad. What'll make you feel better?"

"I just wanna spend the day with you and Chris," Buck admits quietly. "Is that fine?"

"Yeah, of course it is." Eddie wouldn't deny him anything right now, and besides that, he doesn't really want to go anywhere either. He's perfectly happy to stay here in Buck's clothes where they can all be together and maybe process the accident.

Eddie's not even entirely sure what happened. He feels as if the world has narrowed down to just him and Chris, for a moment - he has no idea of the scope of damage or death that occurred, no idea how long Buck worked for, nothing. He's adrift in the world, and it's scary to realise just how much he can miss.

"Chris?" he asks, for lack of anything else to say.

"Asleep still. I just checked on him."

Chris would be exhausted after last night. Eddie's grateful he didn't wake up without them. He's even more grateful when Buck helps him limp back into the bedroom, retrieves some tablets, and checks the wound on his head gently.

Eddie holds his hips before he can walk away, presses a kiss to Buck's sternum. Buck sighs shakily, then leans down to kiss him in return.

"I'll make breakfast," he says quietly. "What do you feel like?"

"You don't have to cook, Buck, you already did last night-"

"Eddie, I need something to focus on," Buck says desperately. "I can't just sit around, I'm not ready to yet."

So Eddie thinks of the most elaborate fry-up he can and Buck gets to work in the kitchen. As Eddie watches, drinking some orange juice slowly - Buck has refused him coffee on the basis that he has a head injury - he notes that a sense of calm has settled over Buck now that he has something to do.

Concrete jumps up on the counter, skids, and then dips his front paw into Eddie's orange juice. Eddie is so bewildered he just watches, rather than scold the animal, and says, "I thought cats hate citrus?"

"They do, why?"

"Your cat is stealing my orange juice."

Buck whips around, and they both stare as Concrete licks his paw experimentally, then shakes the rest of the orange juice off with a crestfallen meow and wobbles his way over to Buck, bumping his head against Buck's bare chest insistently.

Eddie laughs. It feels foreign to him, for a moment, and then even Buck cracks an uncertain smile and laughs along with him.

"Daddy?" Chris's voice asks.

Eddie turns, seeing Chris coming over without his crutches, and kneels down to hug him. "Good morning, buddy," he says. "Did you sleep okay?"

Chris nods. "Are you better?" he asks hopefully.

"I feel lots better." It's a half-truth; the pain medication has taken the edge away from his headache but his ribs still ache from the force of the airbag going off and he knows he'll feel the accident for a while. None of that is anything Chris needs to know.

Chris looks around him, at Buck. Buck smiles, or tries to, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's beginning to settle in for Eddie, more than it did last night, that the accident and earthquake were far worse than he'd originally thought, and that Buck is clearly affected by it.

"Morning, Bucky," Chris says, and goes over for a hug. Buck holds Chris close to his side as he flips a pancake, runs a hand through Chris's curls slowly.

It's an affectionate gesture, but Eddie recognises it for what it is - Buck's checking for injuries. Surreptitiously, maybe, but that's what he's doing. "Good morning, pal," he says. "How's the bed?"

"It's warm," Chris says. "I like the dinosaurs."

"Yeah? I figured you would."

Chris - who's frighteningly perceptive of other people's feelings for a seven year old - seems to know there's something wrong with Buck. He pats Buck's hip until Buck abandons the spatula, then picks him up, balancing Chris on his hip - not easy to do considering Chris is a whole lot bigger than a toddler.

"You wanna help?" Buck asks.

"Yep," Chris says cheerfully, and Buck teaches him how to flip the pancakes and test to see if the bacon is fried properly and how to make a perfect sunny side up egg. Some of the pancakes look a little mangled, but they'll taste the same.

Buck still looks a little down, but he's improved since Chris woke up. Soon enough he's served them up breakfast and says they can eat in the living room, where it's warmer. He carries Chris over with his plate, and Eddie follows - he feels bad that Buck's doing all this, but it seems to be distracting him.

"I'll be with you guys in a second," Buck says, false cheerful. "Find some good cartoons, buddy."

"We can wait for you-" Eddie protests.

"Nah, it'll get cold. I'll be right back, promise."

With that, he pads up the stairs. Chris turns the TV on, but he's fidgeting a little anxiously.

"Daddy, what's wrong with Buck?"

Eddie sighs, puling Christopher into his lap. Chris snuggles into him, putting his head on Eddie's shoulder and playing with the drawstrings of Buck's hoodie, and Eddie breathes in deep - he never would've believed that he could tell his kid apart by his smell before he was born, but he can. Chris still sort of has that baby smell, soft shampoo and body lotion, and still fits easily into Eddie's arms. It calms him down enough to try and explain.

"Buck's a firefighter," he says quietly. "And it's a really cool job. He's a hero. But sometimes when you're a hero you see some... you see stuff that upsets you. And I think yesterday a lot of people got hurt, and Buck got upset because he had to see it."

"If it makes him sad, he should quit," Chris says decisively.

This part he can't explain. That Buck can't put down his firefighter badge any more than Eddie could put his dog tags down in Afghanistan - that the thing that keeps you coming back is something far deeper than a pay packet or a title or a contract. It's something felt down deep in your bones, in your blood, something you can't walk away from - a purpose. People needing you. He knows Buck feels it the way he does and has.

"Well, he can't quit, buddy," Eddie murmurs. "Because he wants to save people. And yesterday he saved lots of people, but it was probably scary for him like it was for you. He'll be okay, he just needs lots of hugs."

"I can hug him," Chris says seriously.

"I know you can. You give the best hugs."

He hears footsteps; Buck's back, wearing a shirt now. He still looks a little hollowed out, and when he does sink onto the couch next to them, Chris immediately shuffles over to hug him tightly. Buck hugs back, his eyes closed like he's trying to stave off memories.

"I'm sorry you're sad," Chris says, muffled, into Buck's neck.

"Not your fault, superman," Buck murmurs.

Chris pulls away, looks at him. "Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"If you're sad, why can't you quit?"

There's a long pause. Eddie can see Buck considering what to say. Then,

"There are lots of people who can't help themselves, Chris," Buck murmurs. "They get scared or they get sick or they get trapped. And they need me. That's why I can't quit."

Chris nods, chewing his lip thoughtfully - something he's only started doing recently, having met Buck. Then he says, "Like me and Daddy need you?"

Eddie's throat closes over right around the time that Buck gets this quietly devastated look on his face. "Yeah, buddy," he says. "And it'd suck if you needed me and I wasn't there, right?"

"You were yesterday," Chris points out.

"Yep. Yesterday was pretty rough. A lot of people needed me yesterday, and sometimes..." Buck hesitates, then ploughs on like it hurts him to say, "sometimes people need you and you do everything you can to help them, and it's not enough. That's why I'm sad."

Chris nods again. Then he crawls into Buck's lap, hugs him tight, and says, "You're gonna be okay, kid."

Eddie believes it when Chris says it. He has to. Otherwise he's confronted with the idea that one day Buck's demons might be too much weight for him to bear and - and Eddie can't consider that. He can't. He won't.

"As long as I have you and your dad, I'll be fine, pal," Buck promises, squeezing Chris tight. "You know what would really help right now?"

"What?"

"A blanket fort."

"I'll get the pillows!" Chris shouts, and leaves them both sitting on the couch, staring at each other.

Neither of them says it, but they're both thinking it - Eddie's joining this job. They're both going to be in the job, assuming Eddie gets through, and that - that could get messy.

It's a risk he's going to have to be willing to take.


	22. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON CARNATIONS! you guys are the greatest! here's chapter 22, honestly i don't really remember what happens in it because i wrote it so long ago but oh well. WE LEADIN UP TO EDDIE BEING A FR FIREFIGHTER
> 
> as per usual, i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

The day of his physical assessment test, Eddie wakes up nervous.

Which seems silly. The physical assessment test has been something he can train for and has been training for - it's not an unknown quantity like the interview or any other part of the process. He knows what he has to do. It's a time trial designed to test the limits of his endurance and strength and he knows he can do it because Buck has helped him practice.

Now all he has to do is not freeze.

He would be lying at this point if he said he wasn't excited by the prospect of it. If he passes this, he's almost all the way there. Then it's onto the fire academy, or, as Buck calls it, "the place where dreams are made". Eddie thinks he might've gotten his wires crossed with Disney World, but he doesn't say so.

"Ten minutes and twenty seconds," he says aloud.

Buck - who's doing push-ups on the floor in the living room, with Chris his improvised weight penalty - gasps, "What?"

"I've got ten minutes and twenty seconds to get through all eight phases of the CPAT," Eddie says, eyeing the YouTube video of the assessment critically.

"That's lots of time," Buck pants. He's on at least forty push-ups at this point, and Chris is clinging to his neck, giggling.

"So you say," Eddie worries, "you're already a firefighter."

"Just don't think about it," Buck advises through gritted teeth. He's dripping sweat onto Eddie's hard wood floor, which is kind of gross, but his arms look amazing so Eddie'll let it slide. "Go as fast as you can. Save some for the end - the breaches can be brutal when you're tired."

"Daddy, Buck's sweaty," Chris says.

Eddie smiles, going over to lift Chris off Buck's back. The moment he's off, Buck grunts and flops over on his side, panting.

"He isn't that heavy," Eddie teases.

Buck sits, then stands and wraps both Eddie and Chris in his arms. "Love me," he coos.

"Ugh," Eddie says, and Chris squirms, laughing, trying to get away. "Buck, you're _wet_."

"It was a good workout!" Chris is allowed to wriggle down, but Buck clings to Eddie. "Love meee," he whines.

Eddie hugs back, grimacing. "You're sticky."

"I do all this just to look good for you, and this is the thanks I get." Buck pulls back, gives Eddie a peck, and says, "You'll be fine today. I can feel it."

"If you say so," Eddie says.

~*~

Buck says so, and he's right.

The stairmaster makes his thighs burn but nothing he can't handle. By the time he gets to the breaches he's in his element, and even though he's tired, he can dig deep and find that little bit more in him to keep going.

This will be nothing compared to the fire academy, he knows. He'll be training until his lungs ache and his mantra is going to have to be keep going, but it's not like this is new exactly. The army was brutal too, in more ways than one, and on the other side of this tunnel Eddie has a new future waiting for him.

When he finishes the test and steps back inside his house, just after midday, he's promptly crash-tackled by an overexcited Buck, who's crowing, "Let's go out to celebrate!"

"You don't even know if I passed yet," Eddie grins.

"I do so," Buck says cheerfully. "You were never gonna fail. Shower and change, we're going out."

Going out with Christopher is always fun, mostly because when Eddie gets tired he can sicc Buck and all his endless energy on the kid, but it's nice to go out together, as a couple, and do what they want to do. Buck buys him bubble tea - he's still dubious about it, but he tries some of Eddie's, deciding that ultimately he still doesn't like it.

"Why would you want to _chew_ your drink?" he asks despairingly.

"Makes it last longer," Eddie says, grinning at how truly put out Buck seems.

They sit down for lunch, where Buck goes about his usual ritual of ripping up his salad and Eddie can't even bring himself to wonder why he'd do it in a public restaurant. Nobody's watching anyway, and Buck's talking animatedly - something about the mating cycles of spiders - and Eddie is perfectly content to sit and listen to him.

Things haven't been easy, and they're not going to stay like this. He'll take this brief moment of normalcy and peace for what it is and hold onto it for a while, he thinks.

"... dude has been sitting outside my window for _days_ , Eddie. Hasn't made his move. I mean, like Maddie said, if that was a human male, the lady-spider would already be disappointed and swearing off men for-"

Eddie snorts water and coughs, having just tuned back in for Buck's description. "You think the male spider's problem is... lasting too long?"

"I mean, she'll get bored if he doesn't make a move," Buck reasons. "Or decide he's better off as a snack."

"Isn't she gonna eat him anyway?"

"Well, yeah. He might as well get laid first."

The waitress, bringing over their bill, gives them a strange look, but leaves. Eddie reaches for it, but Buck's quicker and unfolds his wallet to put his card in there.

"My turn," he says cheerfully.

"It was your turn when we took Chris to McDonald's last week," Eddie sighs, "and your turn before that when we went to the Chinese place that had all the live fish-"

Buck shrugs. "Look," he says, and leans forward on the table to catch Eddie's eyes, "I'm sorry, okay? But... I saw you stressing out over bills a while ago, like, _really_ crunching numbers, and you have the new car... I just wanna help."

Eddie swallows and nods. Buck watches him a little nervously.

"I can stop, I just - sorry."

"Thanks," Eddie says quietly, and Buck relaxes. "I didn't realise you'd seen."

"I pay attention sometimes," Buck replies, gentle humour like he's not sure it's appropriate.

"You pay attention all the time," Eddie sighs. "Not sure how when you've got so much trivia knocking around upstairs..."

Buck grins. "The elephant never forgets, Eddie," he says, and stands. "C'mon, let's pay. I wanna go to PetCo."

"Again?" Eddie despairs, but follows Buck to the counter.

~*~

"Did he need more fake mice?"

"He keeps batting them under the couch and I'm too lazy to move it to get them back."

"Seriously? Your couch probably weighs less than you do, you could just pick it up and move it," Eddie says despairingly. Buck, predictably, puffs up proudly.

"You really think I weigh more than the couch?"

"See, if I'd said that to Shannon, I wouldn't be spoken to for a week."

Buck laughs. "I mean, that's sort of understandable." He puts the PetCo bag down. "Hang on, my phone-"

Eddie waves him off to answer it, then starts unpacking the grocery shopping. He hears Buck talking indistinctly in the other room, turns a little when he realises it doesn't sound like a happy conversation.

He doesn't have to wonder very long. After less than a minute on the phone, Buck comes back out into the kitchen area, a lot less perky than he was five minutes ago.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks curiously.

"Athena," Buck says quietly.

Eddie's gut tightens anxiously. "About Liam? Is he okay?"

"Not about Liam," Buck says. "About... about Matt." There's a long pause, and then Buck sinks into one of the dining chairs with a sigh. "He died in hospital today."

Eddie doesn't feel bad for being relieved. He refuses to feel sorry for someone who tried to kill Buck, who literally kidnapped him because he couldn't handle the thought of Buck moving on, even years after they'd broken up.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, because he knows Buck's big heart is probably conflicted right now.

Buck nods, but it's mechanical. "Is it bad I'm relieved?"

"No," Eddie says, sitting down across from him. "It's not."

Buck nods. "The first time he ever laid a hand on me was when he was bashing me around the head and dragging me into the car," Buck mumbles. "I just don't..."

Eddie doesn't know where Buck's going with that train of thought, and quite frankly he doesn't need to. He gets it - gets that Buck is big hearted, sometimes to his own detriment, and that he probably feels guilty for any number of reasons right now.

He also gets that Buck feels relieved, and maybe a little safer. Hell, Eddie doesn't even feel bad. He's sure Buck's not the only person Matt has abused.

"I didn't get to ask him why," Buck says suddenly, drawing Eddie's attention. "I mean, I sort of know why. But I also sort of don't. I've slept with people and had a relationship with someone after him... I never got to ask him why he chose now. Why you bothered him so much."

Eddie nods. He feels a little uneasy about the direction the conversation is taking, although it's hard to know if that's because he feels out of his depth or because he's genuinely worried that Buck is slipping into a bad mind space. It could be both. "I don't think he would have told you anyway, cariño," he murmurs.

Buck shrugs limply, then stands to take his plate to the sink. Eddie hates the way his shoulders are slumped inwards but tense, the same movements he used to make months ago when he was trying to fold himself down and appear smaller and less like a target - Eddie doesn't want him to feel like that, like he needs to take up less room to be safe.

He heads over, making sure he makes noise with his chair scraping back and his footsteps as he crosses the kitchen, and wraps his arms around Buck's waist from behind, leans his head on the base of Buck's neck and his shoulder blades.

Buck stiffens momentarily, and Eddie realises abruptly that any kind of touching - even touching Buck's come to love and accept isn't a precursor to pain - might not be a wise choice right now. That it all might feel like a threat, regardless of how much noise Eddie makes or his intent.

Then Buck relaxes, right as Eddie is about to pull away, and turns in his arms so he can get a proper hug. He doesn't say anything, and Eddie pulls him in by the back of the neck and holds him, letting Buck hide his face in the side of his neck.

This is progress, Eddie thinks, although a really fucked up kind of progress. At least Buck's not hiding in the bathroom right now, although Eddie's never known him to do it during the day. Maybe he just needs a moment to collect himself.

"Do you have Chris tonight?" Buck mumbles.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be picking him up from abuela's soon," Eddie says. "I can ask her to keep him longer-"

"No," Buck says quickly. "Um, just - can I come?"

"Yeah, of course," Eddie says, surprised Buck feels the need to ask. "You know you're always welcome here with us. That's why we gave you a key, tonto."

"I know. I just don't wanna cut into your family time."

"You are my family," Eddie says, before he has time to consider it. Buck blinks back at him, and - well, it's not like Eddie hasn't said it before. But he's never said it directly to Buck, and never been so straightforward about it. "So, you know... not cutting into family time. More... enhancing it."

"Even like this?" Buck asks quietly.

Eddie smiles. "You know," he says, "part of being family is that you don't have to... perform or be constantly happy or helpful to be deserving of love and understanding. Chris isn't happy all the time and I still love him. And I'm not happy all the time, but he still loves me."

Buck chews his lip. "Yeah," he says finally. "I - yeah. I've just never felt like that applied to me before."

Eddie had guessed as much, but it's still heartbreaking to hear. "Well, you don't have to perform," he says. "I..."

They look at each other. Buck tilts his head, and the corner of his mouth tilts upwards, like he knows what Eddie was about to say and doesn't care that Eddie stopped himself from saying it.

"I care about you," Eddie finishes lamely, feeling his skin tint pink. Why can't he just spit it out? "I don't... want you to feel like you have to hide what you're feeling to earn that."

"I know," Buck says. "And I love you too."

~*~

When they get to abuela's, she takes one look at Buck, declares him to be "too skinny" (this is the strongest evidence Eddie has that she might be going blind) and immediately hustles him inside for food.

Buck is a smarter man than to argue with Eddie's abuela, and submits himself willingly to her affectionate ministrations. He even bends down far enough to hug her properly and smiles when she pushes his hair out of his face.

"You need more sleep," she accuses him. "What is my grandson doing to you?"

Buck laughs. "I just finished nights. I promise I'm getting enough sleep."

Abuela points at Eddie. "You look after this one," she says. "El es especial."

"Qué demonios abuela?" Eddie whines.

"Yeah Eddie, look after me," Buck chimes in, a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm special."

"Buck!" Chris's voice calls. "I found a centipede!"

"For real, kiddo?" Buck asks. "That's awesome!" He kisses abuela's cheek and bounds off to find Chris, leaving her smiling at Eddie in the doorway.

"He's a good boy, mí amor," she says fondly.

"I know," Eddie replies, feeling inexplicably shy. "If I know him he's about to help Chris catch centipedes on the Switch. And maybe some tarantulas."

"Oh my God, Chris," Buck's voice comes. "I didn't think it was a _real_ centipede-"

"But he's so cute!" Chris's voice says. "Wanna hold him?"

Eddie and Isabel head to the back yard, finding Chris sitting on the ground with Buck crouched down next to him, looking a little perturbed.

"Uh, you know," Buck's saying, "maybe you should put him down. I bet he's not happy about his sleep being disturbed."

Chris considers, then puts the bug back on the ground. Eddie relaxes marginally. "I thought we could give him to a museum," Chris frowns.

"Oh, well." Buck laughs. "That's really thoughtful, buddy. But isn't it nicer for him to be out in the fresh air?"

"You're right," Chris says, and pats Buck's shoulder to be picked up. Buck stands and carries him back towards the house, and the sun piercing through the trees lights their hair up - for a moment, their hair turns to matching gold curls, and Eddie feels his heart constrict abruptly, watching the way Chris clings to Buck's neck happily and curls in close for a hug.

Isabel looks at him knowingly. "Special," she reiterates.

"I know," Eddie mumbles, throat a little tight.

~*~

They have dinner at abuela's and head home afterwards, with homework to be done and baths to be had.

With Chris in bed and everything done, for the most part, both Buck and Eddie sink onto the couch. Buck is blinking sleepily, and he's more than happy to be bullied into being Eddie's pillow for a movie. He wraps his arms around Eddie and is out within twenty minutes.

Eddie manages to stay awake, gently caressing a soft, vulnerable spot on Buck's ribcage with his thumb and admiring the way the skin ripples up into goosebumps under his touch, even as Buck sleeps. Buck rouses when the movie gets louder, yawns.

"I should go," he says. "Still gotta get home."

"Stay the night?" Eddie asks. "I know it wasn't the plan, but you look wrecked."

Buck grins sleepily, reaching up one fist to rub his eye and then card it through Eddie's hair. "You just want me to be your personal heater for the night."

"Well, yeah," Eddie says. "Why would I pay for the electric bill when I've got you and you're free?"

"I demand payment by way of love," Buck says, and Eddie kisses his chin, then his forehead, until Buck's laughing and shoving at him. "Okay, okay, I'll stay. God, you're so _needy_..."

"Says the guy who gloms on to anyone who even looks sideways at him," Eddie teases, but he gets off and helps Buck up. "How's the leg?"

"S'fine. Getting warmer now, it does better in the warmer weather." Buck follows him into the bathroom. "Kind of looking forward to having the hardware out, honestly. I mean, if that's what's really causing the pain..."

"It'll be good," Eddie says sincerely, rubbing Buck's back. "You'll let me know, right? When you're booked in?"

Buck smiles. "Yeah, I will, but you're gonna be bored."

Eddie shrugs. He'd rather be there and know what was going on. Okay, so he's a control freak who doesn't entirely trust anyone with his boys... but in his defence, people have been cruel to them both before.

In bed, they curl close and Buck more or less drapes his body over Eddie's with a huff. "Your bed is so much better than mine," he mumbles.

"It really isn't," Eddie says, who's had the mattress and sheets for so long he doesn't even want to think about it anymore.

"Smells like you," Buck sighs, and is promptly out.

Eddie wraps an arm around him and kisses his temple, then closes his eyes. Maybe that is what makes home after all.

~*~

He wakes in the middle of the night to the fading sounds of gunfire and screams.

He's bolt upright, sweating, blinking in confusion. When he looks around, Buck's spot in the bed is empty. The clock reads 3:32AM.

He flicks the lamp on and stumbles out of bed, into the hallway, half blinded by the light and his failure to adjust to it properly before moving. The bathroom light is on, and when Eddie pushes the door open clumsily, he sees Buck standing at the sink, towelling his face dry. He blinks up at Eddie in the bathroom mirror.

"Hey," Eddie says, still trying to shake off his own nightmare. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "Yeah, I - I had a bad dream. I'm okay though." He puts the towel back and walks over, gives Eddie a sweet, soft little kiss that feels so good Eddie almost forgets he just had a bad dream himself. "Go back to sleep."

"No corner hiding?" Eddie asks sleepily. "I'll stay."

Buck smiles, and it reaches his eyes. "Not tonight. Just needed to shake it off."

Eddie nods and allows Buck to herd him back into the bedroom. When they climb into bed again, he finds himself wrapped up in Buck's arms, feels Buck sigh against the back of his neck as he finally relaxes.

"I like it when you check on me," Buck whispers. "But you don't have to, you know? You should sleep."

"I'll sleep when you sleep," Eddie says stubbornly.

Buck's chest rises in a quiet laugh. "Okay. Well, I'm about to. Don't worry about me."

"Can't help it," Eddie says. "It must've been hard to hear about Matt."

Buck rolls onto his back and nods up at the ceiling, silent for a moment before saying, "Yeah. But I've got an appointment with my therapist this week. So I'll talk about it then."

They don't talk about their individual therapy, really. Early on, Eddie realised that they both find it emotionally exhausting and that there's relief in leaving their trauma momentarily in someone else's office, in not bringing it home. He still finds it difficult to verbalise some of the things he goes through, no matter how little judgment he faces, and the last thing he wants is to lump Buck with more crap.

They talk about what they need to talk about. Eddie knows he could go to Buck with anything. He chooses not to, because he's made that mistake with Shannon - the relationship became less about their partnership and more about their individual agonies, and finished with both of them feeling angry, misunderstood, and alone. Therapy might have helped, but so would knowing when to shelve a serious discussion for later.

"That's going okay, then?" Eddie asks awkwardly.

"As okay as it can be." Buck squints at the roof. "I don't like it or anything. I don't even feel better right away afterwards. But I guess I'm noticing a difference."

Eddie nods. He finds nightmares worse after his sessions, but usually feels lighter the next morning. More at ease, and less like his brain is rattling with unresolved trauma.

(He knows that sometimes Buck comes over after a session looking hollowed out and desperately in need of affection. Sometimes he comes back and he doesn't want to be touched. Those days are the worst days, because it reminds Eddie that someone had Buck before him and made him afraid of love.)

"You?" Buck asks.

Eddie sighs. "I hadn't really had nightmares in a while. Then they came back, and then the fireworks... yeah. It's up and down."

Buck's quiet. Then, "Thank God for therapists, right?"

It startles a laugh out of Eddie. "Right," he agrees fondly.

~*~

**From: Buck, 1:12PM:** Isn't my son talented?

The text is accompanied by a picture of Concrete, who's grooming a bright blue, fuzzy cat toy, his eyes squinted shut and his tongue stuck to the fluff of the thing.

Eddie smiles. Buck's been sending pictures of Concrete at random times of the day, apparently so consumed with his new furry friend that he thinks about it even at work. Eddie's at the garage and it's a bright blue day outside, and he feels... well, decidedly less stressed than he has in the past, to say the least.

**To: Buck, 1:20PM:** Not sure he understands the purposes of the toy...

**From: Buck, 1:21PM:** he's a gentle soul Eddie

**To: Buck, 1:21PM:** Just like his owner :)

He doesn't need a response to know Buck is probably blushing at the compliment. It's less than a minute later that he gets a Snapchat from Hen, of Buck, who's staring at his phone and grinning from ear to ear, cheeks pink and eyes bright.

**henwont87:** making your boo blush at work? ;)

Eddie laughs.

Buck calls in that afternoon as Eddie's leaving the garage. "Hey," Eddie says, as he answers, "I had no idea you were such a blushing princess."

"Shut up." Buck sounds happy. "You're out of work?"

"Sure am. Headed to pick Chris up from abuela's. When do you finish?"

"Tonight, around eight." He can almost hear Buck smiling. "You really think I'm gentle?"

"Buck," Eddie laughs, "you are maybe the most gentle human being I've ever met. It's a great trait to have. You shouldn't trade it in."

"I wasn't going to." Eddie can't see him, but he knows Buck is preening and glowing under the praise. He takes to affection like he's been starved of it, and maybe he has been, but Eddie is happy to provide it in spades.

~*~

He's aware that something is wrong when he goes to pick Chris up.

Chris hugs him for longer than usual, but he's uncharacteristically quiet. He asks abuela, but she says he was fine when he came home from school, so Eddie bundles him into the car and drives them home, asking about school.

Chris rests his head on his car seat. "Is Bucky coming over tonight?"

"He's spending the night with Aunt Maddie," Eddie replies, wondering idly when either of them started referring to her that way.

"Oh," Chris mumbles.

"Why? What's up?"

"I miss him."

Eddie smiles. They only saw Buck two days ago, but it's nice, how much Chris genuinely likes him. Eddie wasn't sure he'd ever find a person Chris felt safe with that wasn't him - hell, even less certain he'd find a person to take on both his emotionally damaged ass and a seven year old with cerebral palsy. He wasn't even looking. And then there was Buck.

"You know, I kinda miss him too," Eddie says. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we called him, right?"

"Yeah."

So Eddie makes dinner, and as he does so, Facetimes Buck. Buck, no stranger to him calling at weird hours because of Chris, picks up immediately.

"Hey," he says cheerfully, and he sounds... almost giggly. "Oh my God, Maddie, it's Eddie!"

Eddie's brows shoot up. "Are you drunk?" he asks, grinning.

"No," Buck gasps, and then breaks down into laughter again. "Well. I don't know. Ask Maddie."

"Maddie?" Eddie asks.

Maddie's face appears in the camera as well. "I'm so sorry," she says. "I was trying to learn how to make cocktails but I messed up the measurements for the shots. I'm not good with numbers. And now uh-"

"Now your guinea pig here is wasted," Eddie grins. "Got it. Don't apologise to me... he's your problem for the night."

"Is that Buck?" Christopher asks, moving forward in his seat at the dinner table.

"Sure is, pal," Eddie says. "He's super happy to see you, too."

"Christopher!" Buck beams. "Hey, kiddo! How was school?"

"Okay. I was tired during math."

"I don't blame you. Math is boring."

Chris immediately turns to Eddie. "See? Bucky thinks it's boring too."

"Nice one," Eddie says to Buck, but he's smiling.

"Ooooh, Daddy's butthurt we don't like math, Chris," Buck whispers conspirationally. Then, as he looks at them both through the viewfinder, "Hey, pal, you look tired."

Eddie looks at Chris. Buck... isn't wrong. His kid does look tired. And pale. "Okay," Eddie says, "we're gonna leave Auntie Maddie and Buck to finish their happy juice, and we're gonna have dinner and go to bed. Sound good?"

"Okay," Chris says.

~*~

If there's anything Eddie's learned about being a parent, it's just how sick a kid can get in the space of a few hours.

Chris is pale at dinner, and less than two hours after he's been put to bed, he's wandering out into the living room and whimpering, "I feel bad," and Eddie grabs him in a hug to feel a scalding fever.

"Oh, buddy," he murmurs. "Okay. It's okay. C'mon, you can stay on the couch with me, sound good?" He resigns himself to not getting enough sleep - Chris is more prone to infections with his CP, and Eddie's always more watchful than is probably healthy.

They doze throughout the night. Eddie gives Chris a dose of kid's Tylenol, then realises he doesn't have any more. By the time it hits seven in the morning, he's hardly slept and Chris is miserable on the couch.

"I want Bucky to come over," Chris sniffles.

Eddie closes his eyes. Truthfully, he wants Buck to come over too, for no reason other than the fact that Buck will somehow make things feel better.

"Buddy, it's seven in the morning," Eddie murmurs, pulling Chris in close. Chris clings to him, sniffling. "Buck's probably asleep..."

"Buck always gets up early on Tuesdays," Chris sniffles. "He does it so he can record Paw Patrol for me."

Paw Patrol. God how Eddie truly hates that show. No wonder Chris hasn't been asking him about it... Buck's clearly taken on the task of recording it for him and letting him watch it when Eddie's at work and Buck is minding him.

"So you think he's awake, huh?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll call him. But if he doesn't answer, we're gonna let him sleep, okay?" God knows Buck needs it. "You stay there, mijo."

Chris remains on the couch while Eddie hunts his phone down and flicks it open to Buck's number. Buck's the first person he messages in the morning and the last person he messages at night - it's not hard to find his smiling face in the contacts.

"Please pick up," Eddie sighs into the phone.

A click, a scrape, and a loud, belligerent meow fill his ears. "Eddie?" Buck's voice comes.

"Hey," Eddie says distractedly, watching Chris curl the blanket closer to himself. "Um, are you busy?"

"No," Buck says. "Well, I was ordering Concrete a sweater, and recording Paw Patrol, but no." There's a pause. "Eddie, what's wrong?" he asks quietly.

Sometimes, Buck's ability to sniffer-dog people's feelings makes Eddie uncomfortable. Other times, like now, he's immensely grateful that Buck picked up on it before Eddie had to say anything.

"Chris is sick," Eddie says tiredly. "He's been up all night with a fever and - well, he's asking for you."

It doesn't bother him that Chris is asking for Buck, not really. He knows it's because Buck isn't here, and that if Eddie were the absent one, Chris would ask for him. He's glad that Chris feels comfortable with someone other than him at the same time as being sad about not being able to comfort his kid.

"I'll be right over," Buck says, and Eddie can hear him moving. "Do you need anything?"

"Kid's Tylenol?" Eddie asks desperately. "I'll send you a photo of it, just let me know how much it costs and I'll-"

"You're not paying me," Buck says bluntly, and that's the end of that conversation. "Send me a photo of everything you need. I'm leaving now."

~*~

When Buck arrives an hour later, Eddie's just about worn a groove into the floor.

He can't expect Buck to pay for Chris's medicine and he can't expect him to pay for all the groceries Eddie needed, but the reality of it is that Eddie's one paycheque away from losing everything and he just - can't afford some of this stuff. Not between Chris's physical therapy and everything else.

Buck uses his key to let himself in, which is good, because Eddie's on the couch with Chris, who has been complaining of feeling like he's going to throw up.

Chris perks when he hears the key in the latch. "Bucky?" he cries miserably.

"Chris?" Buck rounds the corner, carrying a few grocery bags, a pharmacy bag and what looks suspiciously like a toystore bag. His face softens in sympathy and worry when he sees them on the couch. "Hey, buddy. Not feeling good, huh?"

Chris sniffles and shakes his head.

"Well, good thing I'm here then," Buck says seriously. "I'm a professional at cheering people up when they're sick, did you know that?"

"No," Chris mumbles tearfully.

Buck takes in the bucket on the ground and the towels and Eddie's pinched expression, puts the bags down, and comes over to them. The moment he's within range, Chris is struggling into his lap, clinging with such desperation Eddie knows there's no way he's moving anytime soon.

Buck presses a kiss to the top of his head, then feels his forehead. He meets Eddie's eyes over Chris's head, his own sad and worried.

"Spiked a fever during the night," Eddie says tiredly. "He was fine yesterday when he came home from school, according to abuela. By dinner he was pale."

"Yeah," Buck coos, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "Yeah, not fun, huh, pal? You been up all night?"

"I'm sleepy," Chris whimpers.

"Well, why don't you try to sleep?" Buck says comfortingly. "Put your head down. I got you."

That seems to soothe Chris, at least a little, because he does as Buck instructs and lets his head flop on Buck's shoulder, holding the front of his shirt with one hand.

Buck smiles at Eddie a little. "I'd get all the stuff, but..."

"No, stay there," Eddie murmurs reverently, amazed at how easily Buck was able to comfort his kid. It's not like he didn't know Buck was great with Chris anyway, but this unreserved taking to a sick, clingy kid was something he wasn't expecting. It's easy to like kids when they're happy and bouncy. It's less easy when they're not.

Eddie stands up, passing a hand over Chris's head as he does, and heads to the bags. Buck's got them groceries as well as topped up all the medicine - Eddie only asked for children's Tylenol, but Buck's brought over a bunch of other stuff that has no use for a twenty-six year old man with no children.

In the toystore bag is some Legos, a few colouring books and pencils, and a brand-new pillow pet in the shape of a fox.

"You spoil him," Eddie says, but he's smiling as he says it. It feels less like the world is ending and more like they can get Chris's fever under control together with Buck here.

Buck moves one shoulder gently, so that he doesn't disturb Chris, in a shrug. "Sorry," he says, even though he's clearly not. "He should be spoiled."

Eddie manages to get Chris to take some of the Tylenol and kid's Pepto-Bismol Buck has brought over, and within half an hour, Chris is asleep with his head in Buck's lap, wrapped in a blanket. He's so tired and listless he hasn't even looked at the toys.

"How much was it all?" Eddie asks. If he reshuffles his planned payment of the bills and maybe takes some money out of his meagre savings, he's sure he can pay Buck back.

"I already told you, you're not paying," Buck says.

"Buck, it's not... I can't let you..."

"Eddie," Buck says firmly, reaching out across the back of the couch to touch his shoulder, "I was about to buy sweaters for my cat. Sweaters, plural. Sweaters that won't even fit properly because he's missing a leg. It really didn't make a dent for me. It doesn't matter. And I wanted to."

Eddie smiles faintly. He's so, so grateful for Buck and for all that Buck is just - willing to give and give and give for him and for Chris. Grateful for how much Buck really loves them. "Your cat has fur and we live in California," Eddie says. "He doesn't need sweaters."

"According to you," Buck says, fake-haughty.

Eddie leans his head back on the back of the couch, sighing. He's exhausted and grateful when Buck's hand finds its way to his hair, runs through the strands gently, comfortingly. Eddie never would have guessed that a man Buck's size would be built for comfort, but here they are.

"I gotta call abuela or Pepa," he sighs out. "See if they can maybe watch him tomorrow while I work. Hopefully Pepa isn't working..."

"I have the day off," Buck says. "I'll take care of him."

"You want to spend your day off taking care of a sick kid?" Eddie asks, even as he's unable to believe Buck's kindness.

"Yeah," Buck says tentatively. "Is that okay? I totally get it if you want Pepa or abuela to look after him, I mean... they know him best. But the offer's there."

Eddie thinks about it - the way Chris asked for Buck and calmed instantly in his arms, the way he's sleeping as soundly as a kid with a fever can on Buck's lap, or that Buck is inherently stronger than either of his elderly relatives.

"No," he says finally. "If - if you're offering, I'd actually rather you watch him."

"Really?" Buck's beaming.

"Really." Eddie tries to smile back. "But you have to let me do something nice for you afterwards, okay?"

"Fine," Buck sighs dramatically.

~*~

Eddie leaves Buck the next morning with a slightly ridiculous list of instructions and probably a whole heap of performance anxiety, then heads to work.

He's consumed with worrying about Christopher, but Buck's text updates keep him as at ease as possible until he returns home. When he does, it's to the sight of both of them, asleep on the couch, a bowl of chicken noodles abandoned on the coffee table.

Chris is tucked into Buck's arms, head right under his chin. Buck's got his body tilted slightly towards the back of the couch - to stop Chris falling off, in all likelihood. The toys are still unopened, but the chicken noodles are mostly gone.

The knot in Eddie's chest eases. Chris has eaten, and he's sleeping, and when Eddie reaches out to touch his head gently, he feels a lot cooler to the touch.

Buck stirs lightly, blinks his eyes open. "Oh, hey," he says blearily. "You're home."

"Sure am." Eddie smiles. "How's the day been?"

Buck yawns, blinks a few more times. He feels safe here, and Eddie knows that because he no longer springs into immediate wakefulness when he's roused anymore. "Uh," he says, "he was hungry for breakfast and ate some, but he did get sick a few times. I changed him-" Buck yawns again, "and then we watched TV. He took Tylenol at one, had some Pepto and then the noodles. That was like... two? He hasn't been sick again. He's mostly just slept." Buck's hand runs the length of Chris's narrow back. "Still shivering a little. But I think the fever is mostly gone."

"You changed too," Eddie says, concerned that Chris was apparently vomiting. Buck's wearing a different shirt.

"I didn't get him to the bucket quick enough," Buck says. "So it got on me. It's fine. I washed all the pukey clothes and changed his sheets, too. They were gross after last night."

Eddie sits on the coffee table, astounded that Buck not only volunteered for the task of taking care of a sick kid that isn't his on his day off, but that he cleaned up all the puke and dealt with the crying and remembered when he'd given medications.

"Sorry," Buck says. "You probably wanted to know if he was getting sick, but it was under control, if I thought he was in danger I would've-"

"I love you," Eddie interrupts.

Buck's mouth clicks shut comically. He looks like he was expecting it even less than Eddie was. And maybe Eddie wasn't expecting to say it - but he does mean it.

"I love you," he repeats, just so Buck knows he's serious.

Buck blinks. His expression softens a little, and his eyes look a little glittery.

"I love you too," he says quietly, and Eddie leans down to give him a quick kiss, trying not to disturb Christopher. "Why... why now?"

"I should've told you ages ago," Eddie says helplessly. "I've felt that way for so long and I just, I couldn't get myself to-" And he can't say that Chris isn't even Buck's son, because - well, how could he? Buck is as good as Chris's other father at this point, and Eddie can't bring himself try and think otherwise even as he knows it's too soon-

Buck reaches out to grab his hand, smiling softly at him. "Eddie," he says, "it's okay."

"I should've told you, Buck. All those times you told me..." He leans down, presses his forehead to Buck's, feels Chris breathing evenly on Buck's chest. "I love you."

"I didn't say it so you'd say it back." Buck murmurs, eyes closed and nudging his nose into Eddie's. "And you didn't have to say it back. Even when you didn't say it... I knew."

~*~

Soon after Eddie arrives home, Chris wakes up, and he seems a lot perkier. He greets Eddie with a croaky, "Hi, Daddy," and snuggles into Eddie for a hug.

Eddie hugs him bag, grinning widely. "Hey, mijo. You feeling better?"

"Yeah." Chris rests his head back against Buck's chest with a wide yawn. "Buck was nice to me."

"Yeah, Buck's pretty great, huh?"

Chris's eyes drift for a moment, over his shoulder, and he perks up as he spots the toy bag. "What's that?" he asks.

"That," Buck says, "is a bag full of all the things you need for a sick day." He smiles when Eddie brings it over. "Look. We have colouring books, and Legos, a bunch of new pencils... and this guy!"

He holds up the pillow pet. It's designed to look like a fox, and Chris's eyes light up when he sees it. Dios, but Eddie is soft for these two. He's soft for Buck who's capable of loving Chris like his own son, with all the ins and outs involved, and for Chris, who's able to trust Buck even with his past experience of Shannon's boyfriend.

"Can we build Legos?" Chris asks.

"Sure," Buck says cheerfully. "Let's do it!"

~*~

With Chris crashed out for the evening, Buck returns home, saying he needs to feed Concrete. He promises to come back the next day after work, when Christopher is hopefully feeling better.

He does come back, and while Chris is clearly feeling a lot better than he was, Buck looks a little pale and is sniffling as he shuffles inside Eddie's house. Eddie feels the side of his neck absently, for fever, but Buck doesn't feel warmer than usual.

"Did you get what Chris has?" he asks gently.

"Just a cold," Buck says thickly. "No big deal. Just don't get too close."

"I think if I'm gonna catch it, I'm already doomed," Eddie says. "What's that?"

Buck holds up the plastic grocery bag with another sniffle. "Dinner. Well, it will be once I make it."

"Buck, you've got a cold and you worked all day," Eddie says gently. "Why don't you take a load off, go sit down?"

Buck smiles, and it doesn't seem like it's any more effort than usual. Maybe he's telling Eddie the truth, and he really is just a little under the weather, and it isn't a big deal. "It's a quick one," he promises. "It'll take me ten minutes tops."

"Okay," Eddie says warily.

"Buck!"

Chris is coming down the hallway without his crutches, beaming. "Hey, superman," Buck grins, squatting down so he can gather Chris into a hug. "You feeling better?"

"Lots better!" Chris blinks at Buck. "You look bad."

Buck clutches his chest, mock-hurt. "That's mean."

Chris giggles. "But you do."

"I got a cold, buddy. But it's no big deal." Buck stands, picking Chris up with a huff. "I even went to work today and I was fine. Besides, what better medicine than seeing my two favourite boys, huh?"

"Am I the most favourite?"

"Well, if you don't tell your dad, then sure," Buck whispers conspirationally.

"I heard that," Eddie says, smiling when the admission makes Christopher giggle. "Alright, alright. Let's help Buck with dinner."

~*~

He wakes to his phone ringing some time at two in the morning.

Beside him, Buck rolls and coughs. Eddie reaches one hand out to smooth up and down his back, and the other out for his phone. It's Shannon, and his immediate and first thought is to start worrying. He might not be in love with her - but she's Chris's mom.

"Shannon?" he asks as he answers.

Buck shuffles, lifts his head wearily, and blinks, sniffles. He meets Eddie's eyes in the darkness.

"Shannon?" Eddie asks again.

"Yeah, no," the voice - that is decidedly not Shannon - on the other end says. "Ricky. I think you know me."

It's hard to describe the mix of fear and anger that rush through him in that moment. The fear sends his heart rate through the roof, but the anger is stronger - and takes over. "How'd you get Shannon's phone?"

Buck sits up, mouth open in a question.

"She's sleeping, and I know her passcode," Ricky says. "It's not that hard. Look, all I wanted to say is - you better not keep her from seeing Chris much longer."

"Or what?" Eddie snarls.

"Or I'll have to force you to let her see him," Ricky says. "I don't care. It's not my kid. But she misses him. You don't have a right to keep him from her."

"I do as long as she keeps hanging out with you," Eddie growls. "What, you get off on hitting little kids? I'm not letting her see him as long as she's dating you. That's the end of it."

He hangs up before he can say anything else and throws the phone onto the bed, heart pounding furiously. It takes him two second more to fling the covers back and jump to his feet, beginning to look for his jeans and shoes.

"Eddie," Buck croaks. "What are you-"

"I'm gonna go round there and kill him," Eddie seethes.

"I feel like-"

Buck breaks off, body rattled by a congested cough, and the fight leaves Eddie's body abruptly. Was he really gonna leave Chris, who's just getting over a fever, and Buck, who sounds like he's about to get worse?

Eddie slides back into bed with a sigh, rubs Buck's back until he stops coughing. He feels Buck's neck and forehead, but he's cool to the touch. No fever - he must really just have a minor cold.

"You're not gonna go?" Buck asks.

"No," Eddie sighs, and flops back down on the bed. Buck follows him, curls into Eddie's arm when he's pulled close. "Chris is sick, you're sick-"

"I'm an adult, I'm not gonna die if you leave me here by myself," Buck points out.

"Doesn't matter. Shitty thing to do to leave someone when they're sick." Eddie turns to look at him - it's hard to tell in the low light, but Buck still looks pale. "That cough lasts longer than a week, go to the doctor."

Buck smiles sleepily. "Yes, Dad," he mocks. He shuffles closer, hitches his bad leg up over Eddie's hips, and manages to blanket Eddie in his scent. "What now? Who was it?"

"Ricky," Eddie says. "And as for what now - the moment it's a decent hour of the morning, I'm calling Athena."


	23. Contention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND TODAY IN TETHERS WE FINALLY FIND OUT MORE ABOUT BUCK'S DAD
> 
> real talk though this is kind of a sad buck chapter but i'm trying to wrap up some plot points before moving onto phase 2 of this story lmao. as usual thank you all for your lovely comments and i hope you enjoy :)
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

"So you don't even have to do your EMT certification?"

Buck is doing chin-ups from a dubiously constructed bar attached to the doorframe of his second bathroom. Concrete - sitting nearby - is batting at his feet every time he comes down.

"I had to get it done for the military," Eddie explains. "They started needing full EMT certification just before I enlisted. I kept up with the refresher courses just in case. I checked it out with the recruiters and they're happy with it."

"That saves you so much time," Buck says, nudging Concrete away from him with one foot before landing gently on his feet. "Not in the academy or anything, but before it will. And you'll ace the medic stuff in the academy." He picks up his water bottle. "Hey, did you get like, a cool callsign?" he asks curiously.

Eddie smiles, a little awkwardly. He hardly ever talks about his time in the military, usually for good reason, but this question is innocent enough. "68 Whiskey," he says. "That was the medics were called."

"That's so cool," Buck says. "You're cool."

"You sound like a sixteen year old girl," Eddie teases, but goes over to kiss Buck anyway. "Bobby was happy to go down as a reference for me."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Buck mumbles into his mouth. "Stop talking about Bobby while we're making out."

"We're not making out, you have to get ready for work," Eddie laughs, moving away as Buck whines. "Go shower. You're gonna be late."

~*~

Two days later, after he's dropped Chris off at school, he realises he hasn't heard from Buck since last night and shoots him a text message. Buck will normally message throughout the night if he's awake for a shift, and Eddie knows he did a night shift last night.

 **To: Buckaroo, 8:15AM:** Hey, wanna catch up today or are you tired?

The response is almost immediate. The bubbles pop up, and Eddie smiles. Buck must have just gotten home and has probably slid into bed with his curtains drawn, ready to sleep.

 **From: Buckaroo, 8:16AM:** good morning :) gonna sleep some, got some things to do

 **To: Buckaroo, 8:16AM:** Sleep well mí amor

He puts his phone down, potters around the house and garage for a few hours getting menial tasks done, and - when he's finally finished repainting the section of the house he's been meaning to get to for months - makes some lunch, then sits at the table. In front of him - a pile of bills, and a copy of the signed statement he gave to Athena about Ricky.

He was hesitant to go through with it. Now, he has to wait until someone calls him and tells him what's going on. Nobody's asked to speak to Chris, yet. He wonders if they're waiting to speak to Ricky first, see what he tells them. Maybe they're still deciding on how to proceed.

Either way, no matter how nervous he is, he's confident he's done the right thing in reporting it. Buck has a point, and Athena confirmed his fears - Ricky will only escalate if he's calling at three in the morning.

Right as he's started crunching - well, re-crunching - the numbers on the bills, his phone rings, and he picks it up to see Maddie's name on the screen.

"Hey, Maddie," he says, squinting at the electric bill. Have the rates gone up? "What's up?"

"Eddie," Maddie says anxiously. "Hey, I'm glad I got onto you. Look, is - is Buck with you?"

"No?" Eddie asks curiously. "He said he had some stuff to do today. Why?"

"Uh," Maddie says, and Eddie recognises that tone anywhere - that's the Buckley "I'm hedging my bets and trying to tell you the truth without worrying you" tone. "Eddie, our dad is in town."

Eddie's first reaction is panic. Buck's father has shown up in town and Buck said he was busy and now he's apparently not answering his phone for Maddie, and this is a guy who abused Buck badly enough that Buck hides in bathrooms after a bad nightmare.

"How long for?" he asks.

"He got in yesterday night. I didn't know until today when he messaged me as well." There's a pause. "Eddie, I'm-"

"Worried," Eddie finishes. "I'll go around to Buck's, check on him."

"Thanks," Maddie says. "Will you let me know? I can meet you guys when I finish work."

"Yeah, sure." Eddie collects his keys and jacket. "I'm leaving now."

~*~

Buck's car is in the basement car park when Eddie gets there.

He's ascertained two things on the drive here - that Buck never told him his dad messaged and probably never intended to, and that Buck's silence is probably a misguided attempt to protect Eddie from what he sees as unnecessary drama.

Eddie wishes he wouldn't.

He knocks on the front door, resolving that if Buck doesn't answer he'll use the key in the lockbox attached to Buck's car. He chews his lip and tries to stay calm as he waits - if Buck is here and his dad is also here, Buck is going to need him calm, not freaking out.

The door opens a scant inch, and Buck peers out with one big blue eye before blinking and opening the door further - but not all the way.

"Hi," Eddie says, smiling.

"Hi," Buck says warily. "Um - normally I love seeing you, but I kind of, uh, I have... stuff..."

He trails away as he reads Eddie's face. "Maddie told you," he mumbles.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, keeping his voice low. "You didn't answer your phone. She was worried, so I came to check on you."

Buck's eyes flicker to something in his apartment, and then he takes a deep breath, opens the door completely to let Eddie in. Eddie steps inside and gives Buck a brief kiss, letting his hand settle on Buck's lower back for a moment. He doesn't seem like he's hurt.

"Where is he?" Eddie asks.

"He's in the bathroom," Buck mumbles uneasily, backing into the kitchen and away from Eddie. Eddie stays where he is, trying to assess the situation.

"And how long has he been here for?"

"A few hours." Buck is so clearly uncomfortable it's making Eddie anxious - every single movement he makes telegraphs that he's an unholy combination of scared and shut off, and in Eddie's experience, this is when it's hardest to get through to him. Buck's body language is normally so open and friendly it's disconcerting to feel how much he doesn't want to talk right now.

This feels like a point Eddie should push, though. It feels like he needs to or risk Buck not trusting him with things, or thinking that his problems aren't important enough to bother Eddie with. He trusts that even if Buck is pissed in the moment, he'll be able to recognise the concern for what it is.

"Why didn't you tell me he was here?" Eddie asks. "I would've come over, I would've-"

"What? Protected me?" Buck asks, so bitterly that Eddie actually reels from it. "Eddie, I'm six foot two and two hundred pounds. He's not even capable of doing any real damage anymore. You can't fix what happened when I was a kid either. Why should I have let you know?"

Eddie's totally unsure of what to say here, because he's never known Buck to be like this. He's never known him to be so bitter or to turn his anger outwards in that bitterness. And here they are. With no other way to get through, Eddie's forced to read Buck's body language - really read it in a way he's never had to before, because of Buck's openness.

Buck's hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are slumped. He's got his head half-bowed like he's fighting the urge to expose the back of his neck like Eddie's known him to do when he's worried he's in trouble, and he's not meeting Eddie's eyes. He's managed to back up to the corner counter, where nothing can approach from behind him.

His tone of voice might be snappish, but Eddie knows better than that. Every part of Buck's body is crying out that he's scared, that his bark is far worse than his bite, that he's overwhelmed and not coping.

"I just want to help," he says, uncertainly, and Buck's shuttered expression opens up a little bit. "I love you. I just want to help you."

He doesn't realise what he's said until Buck's eyelashes flutter, and his mouth opens a little bit. He looks stunned and unsure of himself, and he doesn't say anything.

"I didn't say that to throw you off," Eddie says. "I just - I thought you should know that I do. I feel like you could use hearing it right now. If you want me to go, I will, but Buck... I don't want to leave you here on your own with him."

Buck's eyes flicker towards the bathroom, then back to him. That's when Eddie gets it - Buck isn't afraid for himself, he's afraid for Eddie. Buck doesn't want him here because he's worried Eddie will somehow get hurt. Buck wants him to stay - and wants him to go. If the way he's acting is any indication, the indecision is killing him.

"I'm not going anywhere, actually," Eddie says, out loud, which makes Buck look a little startled. "I know what you're doing. It isn't gonna work."

Buck licks his lips anxiously. Eddie makes the decision to cross the room and hug him, because if he knows anything about Buck it's that he's tactile and affectionate and responds best to being shown and told he's loved, not implied it. He just has to hope that Buck's in a headspace that he can actually accept affection.

Buck doesn't flinch from him, but that might be because there's nowhere to go. When Eddie gets close enough, he reaches out to touch Buck's wrist, instead of going anywhere near his neck, and then moves in for a hug when Buck's fingertips scrape his palm tentatively.

Buck clings to him the moment Eddie's within reach, which only solidifies Eddie's decision to not leave him here with his father alone. Damn it, he knows Buck is an adult who can defend himself. Buck is also an adult who was badly traumatised enough by his father that he still hides in bathrooms after a nightmare. Eddie will probably never know the full story of what happened, but he doesn't need to.

"I didn't say anything because _I_ was protecting _you_ ," Buck admits quietly. "Trying to, anyway. Fucking it up, but I was trying."

"You didn't fuck it up," Eddie says softly. "We're in this together, okay? I'm not gonna leave you."

Buck tucks his face into Eddie's neck. Eddie can feel him trembling and he knows Buck is gonna have to do this himself - Eddie can't fight all his battles for him, even though he'd happily take on the whole world for Buck - but he can be here. He can at least be here.

The bathroom door opens, and Buck springs away from him like he's been burned. Eddie wants to cling, but he recognises the self-defence mechanism for what it is and lets it go - Buck's dad can't hurt him for what he doesn't see.

"Found the towels okay?" Buck's voice says nervously. "Um, Eddie, this - this is my dad. Paul."

"I did."

Buck's father has steel grey hair and dark brown eyes, which is startling to Eddie. He sort of forgets that Buck and Maddie look nothing alike - he supposes Maddie's brown eyes had to come from somewhere.

Their face, though - when Eddie looks close, he can see similarities. The jaw and nose are definitely Paul's, but Buck's smile and eyes clearly must belong to his mother, because that's where the similarities end.

"Who's this?"

Paul's voice is like ice, and if Eddie had ever encountered a fight he was willing to walk away from, maybe he'd know to walk away from this one - except he doesn't. He's picked every fight that's brewed in front of him because he has conviction in his cause, because he knows one thing down to his core - he always wants it more. He always wants the win more.

Maybe he should back off. Maybe he shouldn't say anything, or let Buck speak. But Eddie won't let Buck think he's alone in this, that Eddie will be complicit in his abuse the way so many people have been.

"I'm Eddie Diaz," he says, raising his chin slightly. "Buck's boyfriend."

He doesn't shake Paul's hand. He's not Buck and he's not capable of playing nice. Well - he is. Has been before. But he's choosing not to be. He won't play nice with someone like this. Not ever.

"What happened to Matt?" Paul asks, his gaze settling on Buck with such piercing intensity even Eddie is tempted to wither beneath it. He'd forgotten that Buck's dad doesn't know what happened to him, that he and Maddie chose not to tell him.

"Matt died," Buck says quietly.

"And you move on immediately to... this?" Paul's eyes sweep him again, unforgivingly. "What kind of a last name is Diaz?"

"It's Mexican," Eddie says. "Is there an issue with that?"

He wants to force Buck's father to say it. He wants a win before the fight's even really started. He wants that notch under his belt - wants it there so he can show Buck that no matter what, Eddie's in his corner. Eddie will fight for him if he has to.

"No issue," Paul says. "I'd like to actually talk to my son, though."

Buck's said two words this entire conversation and doesn't look like he wants to say much more. When Eddie looks at him, he's startled and a little scared to see that Buck looks - void. There's no spark of life behind his eyes, there's no facial expression - Buck is blank, and the only thing Eddie can think of that would cause that expression is pure fear.

"Evan," Paul says firmly.

Buck straightens mechanically. "Sorry," he says. "What?"

"I'd like it if you contributed to a conversation you're supposed to be part of instead of letting your boyfriend do all the talking for you," Paul says. "This is why Matt was good for you. A firm hand-"

Eddie's boiling over with anger so badly he doesn't think he can control it for much longer. There's a pulse throbbing in his ears and a red mist and his vision shivers like he's only ever known it to do when he was staring down enemy fire in Afghanistan, and Buck still isn't even raising his voice to defend himself.

" _Evan_ ," Paul snaps.

"Maybe you can come over for dinner," Buck says softly. "Tomorrow? We could talk over dinner. You must be tired after travelling."

"Will Eddie be there?" Paul asks shrewdly.

"Um," Buck says, his voice barely more than a mumble. "I..."

Eddie reaches down to squeeze Buck's hand. He normally wouldn't be this reckless with touch when Buck is so clearly spaced out and not quite with them presently, knowing it could trigger a fear response, but he needs Buck to know he's here.

"I'll be there if you want me to be there," Eddie murmurs to him, and Buck blinks, then straightens more.

"Eddie will be there," he affirms to Paul.

Paul looks at Eddie. "Will you hold your tongue at least?"

"No promises," Eddie all but snarls back.

"Fine." Paul picks up his jacket and keys. "I'm going to the hotel. I expect you'll call with dinner arrangements."

He leaves, and the door shuts behind him. The moment it does, Buck's pulling his hand from Eddie's grip and retreating to the kitchen, apparently consumed with the task of making coffee... while wedged in against the corner counter.

Eddie understands what this is. This is Buck reasserting his own space, reclaiming it where he feels it's been threatened and taken away. He understands and he wants nothing more than to crash through that bubble and just - hold him until he comes back. Until that terrible void look in his eyes goes away.

"Buck?" he asks tentatively.

Buck twitches. "Sorry about him," he mumbles, and his voice is almost frantic. "I um, I didn't know he was coming and didn't really know he knew where I lived and I probably should've warned you and-"

"You don't owe me anything," Eddie interrupts. "I - can I touch you?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Buck says, his voice breaking.

"Okay." Eddie clenches his hands into the countertop like he could break it if he tried, wonder if his hands will stop burning with the urge to reach out - to hold, to caress. "I won't touch you."

Buck shoots him a horribly nervous look, then inches out from near the counter to slide a coffee mug towards him. He doesn't seem to mind if Eddie stays, or he's just being polite - either way, Eddie's not going until he's told to. He can't.

He sips the coffee mechanically, noting that Buck hasn't gone back to the corner, even though he hasn't come closer. Clearly, his father's visit and the mention of Matt being good for him has totally thrown him, because this is not the Buck Eddie knows and loves.

"Hey," Eddie says.

Buck looks up at him, meets his eyes. Progress, Eddie thinks.

"I love you," he murmurs. "I just wanted you to know that."

Those seem to be the magic words, because Buck's eyes clear a little and he pushes himself off the counter, comes close enough that Eddie really could reach out to hold him if he wanted to. He puts one hand on the counter - an offering - and after a moment, Buck takes it.

"You're okay," Eddie says, for lack of anything better. "You're gonna be okay."

~*~

Except it's not. Buck's not.

Eddie has to go home to pick up Chris sometime, and the moment he does, it's like Buck drops off the face of the planet.

Eddie worries, then he freaks. He worries about Buck stuck in his apartment, too scared to tell his father to piss off - worries about Buck not being safe in general. God, Eddie knows Buck is big enough to defend himself now. What he doubts is that Buck actually will if it comes to it.

He calls, but it goes to voicemail, and messages. By the time the next morning has rolled around, he's so anxious he's sick with it and doesn't know what to do. He considers going around there, but he doesn't want to encroach on Buck's space when it's already been violated, and he's not sure how many texts he can send before it gets fucking weird.

The bed feels empty without Buck in it. Eddie's only saving grace is that he has work that morning - a short shift admittedly, from seven in the morning until two in the afternoon, which almost distracts him. Then he gets home and the worry starts up all over again.

So he calls Maddie.

"Eddie?" she asks upon answering. "Have you-"

"Heard from Buck? No," Eddie says, pacing the hallway. "I'm guessing you haven't either if you're asking me."

"Okay, don't panic," Maddie says. "He does this sometimes."

"He's never done this as long as I've known him," Eddie insists, even though it feels childish. He's known Buck for less than a year. How should he know how he reacts to personal stress? "How come your dad is holed up with him?"

"He doesn't have my address," Maddie says. "I don't even think he knows I left Doug."

"How does he-"

"Have Buck's? Buck sends out a Christmas card every year." Maddie sounds sad. "Always has his address on it. Even to Dad. Dad never answers, but..."

But Buck still does it, because that's who he is.

"I don't know what to do," Eddie says helplessly. "I don't know whether I should push or not push or leave him alone or text him or... Maddie, I don't know what's right here."

He hears Maddie sigh. "Eddie," she says, so soft into the phone it's like she's preparing him for a blow, "ever since Buck was a kid, he's withdrawn from everyone when he's upset. He just doesn't want to inconvenience you and - I know he's kind of like that anyway, but when it comes to our dad... it's much worse. The last time he was in a relationship and Dad showed up, it was with Matt."

Eddie closes his eyes. "Who wouldn't exactly have been supportive," he says. "You don't - you don't think he's scared I'll react the same, right?"

Maddie hesitates. Then, "I don't know what he's thinking. He hasn't really told me anything. But knowing Buck, and knowing everything he's been through... yeah. He might be."

"I won't, though," Eddie says, devastated by the thought that Buck might be genuinely afraid of him. "I'd never-"

"I know, Eddie," Maddie whispers into the phone. "It's complicated. I know that and you know that and I think Buck knows that too, but he's already worried and he's been through this before and he didn't have any support." He hears her swallow. "That's - that's my fault. I'm his big sister. I should have been there for him."

"It wasn't your fault either, Maddie." Eddie chews his lip; he feels like he's been wearing a groove into the ground from his pacing. He's so damn worried and wants so badly to be there for Buck, but this is uncharted territory and he doesn't know how far he can push things without them breaking. "I guess I'll... I'll text him, let him know he can come to me if he needs to. Or wants to."

"It might just take him hearing it," Maddie offers kindly. "Sometimes he's a little boneheaded but he's always just trying to do the right thing. You know that, right?"

He does, and unfortunately he also knows that Buck thinks the right thing is to try and keep Eddie away from what he perceives as family drama and a waste of Eddie's time. He knows Buck wouldn't rather go it alone, and he also knows that that's exactly what Buck's going to try and do - a misguided attempt at selflessness Eddie didn't and would never ask for.

"Yeah, I know," he sighs. "Thanks, Maddie."

After the call ends, he paces anxiously. Chris is with abuela tonight, which means Eddie could just - well, he could just go over, but is that forcing himself into Buck's space? Would it be violating boundaries? Buck said he's always welcome, but him not answering his phone calls or texts is sending a fairly loud message that he wants to be left alone.

Eventually, he thumbs his phone open and blinks back at the photo on the screen - him and Buck and Chris, all beaming, all happy. The giraffe zoo exhibit is visible in the background. Buck looks so happy, and Eddie misses him so fiercely for a moment it physically hurts.

He starts a text message and has to rewrite it a few times before he's happy, and then he sends it, hoping against hope that some part of it gets through to Buck.

 **To: Buck, 2:37PM:** Last one, I promise. I just want you to know that I love you. When you're ready, I'm here, always.

He hits send before he can chicken out, then slumps onto the couch and stares at the ceiling.

Now what?

~*~

 **From: Maddie, 3:56PM:** have you heard from him?

His stomach sinks. Maddie's clearly worried about Buck and his self isolation too.

 **To: Maddie, 3:56PM:** No... have you?

 **From: Maddie, 3:57PM:** No. He never normally shuts me out. I'm really worried about him. The last time Dad showed up out of nowhere he moved to South America for a year to get away.

God, Eddie really hopes Buck hasn't just fucked off to the other side of the world to escape everything. He really doesn't think Buck would, but to know his father's last visit had that effect-

The doorbell rings. Eddie abandons his phone on the couch and goes to get it, thinking it might be Christopher's eighth birthday present - a Lego set with more pieces than Eddie's brain is capable of comprehending. They usually just leave it, but maybe this one needs a signature.

He pulls the door open, mouth opening to say hello, and stops short at what he sees.

Buck is standing on his doorstep, wearing a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers and a dark, flannel jacket, a black hood sticking out from underneath it. His hair is wild from a combination of the wind and lack of styling, and he's got his head carefully down like he's expecting Eddie to strike him.

"Um," he says softly, and raises his eyes just slightly, enough to nervously meet Eddie's, before looking down again. "I um - I got your text. I - I got all of them actually. And the voicemails."

Eddie feels like someone has cut the tension in his body with a hot knife; it bleeds out of him like he's being drained, and he makes a soft noise that was supposed to be Buck's name but got lost in translation. He steps forward, puts a hand on Buck's shoulder and - when Buck doesn't flinch from him - pulls him into a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers into Buck's ear, and Buck sinks into him like he just needed to hear something kind. He's shaking a little, and Eddie can't work out if he's genuinely cold or maybe a little shaken by the whole day.

"Is it too late for me to cash in on your text?" Buck asks, his voice nervous but hopeful.

"Dios, Buck, it's never too late." Eddie squeezes him tight, holds him for a good long minute until he remembers they're standing in his doorway. He pulls away, gently, and Buck looks at him meekly.

"Come inside?" Eddie asks.

Buck does, kicks his shoes off inside the doorway and pushes his hands into his pockets. He has bags under his eyes like he hasn't been sleeping, but he doesn't look like he's been crying, and there's no visible marks on him.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, needing to know for his own peace of mind.

"Um, yeah." Buck shuffles. "I um... I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls. Or texts. I kind of - I got wrapped up in, uh, I was trying to... not bother you and then I thought about it a bit, and realised that you wouldn't mind me bothering you, then... I sort of got worried that you'd be annoyed I didn't answer, so I just..."

Eddie's never heard Buck stammer like this before, and he can't stand it - they've come a long way from being the Buck and Eddie who were nervous and tiptoeing and inferring instead of declaring, and Eddie doesn't want to go back to that. "You don't need to apologise," he says, stepping in closer again. "Hey, come here."

Buck finally, finally looks up and manages to hold his gaze. Eddie smiles, and Buck seems to relax, as if finally knowing Eddie's not angry.

"Are you hungry?" Eddie asks.

Buck nods.

"C'mon. I haven't had lunch. We can eat together."

Finally, Buck actually smiles and follows him willingly into the kitchen. He sinks down and lets Eddie heat up some of abuela's tamales and make a side salad, and he eats readily when the food is put in front of him.

"I'm glad you came around," Eddie tells him softly. "I was worried about you."

Buck looks up at him, but doesn't seem to know what to say. He does reach out to take Eddie's hand, and Eddie thinks that's progress, really.

"I'm just glad you're not angry," Buck says, finally. "I owe you an explanation."

"You don't-"

"It wasn't fair of me to not answer you, Eddie. Don't give me a pass because I'm stressed."

"Stressed is an understatement, and besides, you can't make me be angry with you," Eddie says stubbornly, and Buck smiles a little. "Buck... I'm just glad you're alright. You're entitled to space. I didn't know how hard I should push."

"I should've told you, though. I'm sorry."

Eddie smiles at him. "No harm done." He watches as Buck relaxes. "You knew you could come here."

"Yeah. It took me a while to remember, but I got there in the end." Buck winces. "It's not because you're anything like Matt, Eddie, it's just..."

"Muscle memory?" Eddie offers.

Buck nods.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm not gonna pretend I've been through it, but I did figure maybe that was it." Eddie stands up, pulls Buck into a hug until Buck lets his head rest on Eddie's chest. He could swear Buck even rubs his cheek on Eddie's shirt a little. "Do you mind if I text Maddie?" he asks. "She's worried about you. Just to let her know you're safe."

"I can-" Buck pats his pockets, grabs his phone, and sighs. "It's flat," he says mournfully.

Eddie laughs. "That's fine. I'll text her." He pulls his phone out as he says it, knowing she'll want to know Buck's safe right away.

 **To: Maddie, 4:23PM:** Buck's okay. He just came around, he's at my place. He was gonna text you but he left his phone at home.

She starts typing back almost immediately, but Eddie ditches the phone in favour of focusing on Buck. He looks a little pinker in the cheeks, and he's on his third tamale and second helping of salad. He's really eating, and Eddie realises he must not have been to be this hungry.

"Good?" he asks.

Buck looks up and smiles. "Abuela's?"

"Always." Eddie sits down. "When's dinner with your dad?"

Buck looks down at his plate, picking at a bit of lettuce. It'll be in shreds in a few seconds, Eddie has no doubt. "I told him I wasn't having dinner with him," Buck says.

Eddie's... a little floored, frankly. He saw how blank Buck went at his place, the look of total resignation and fear in his eyes, the way he seemed to think dinner with his father was an inescapable certainty. Something's happened between Eddie leaving yesterday and Buck coming here today.

He realises he hasn't said anything when Buck meets his eyes and says, "I just... sort of realised I don't have to. What's he going to do? And..." He swallows. "I didn't want to put you and Chris through that. Through him, or through me being a zombie for a week afterwards."

"We'll take you any way you come to us," Eddie murmurs, putting a hand tentatively on the back of Buck's neck. Buck arches into the touch, closing his eyes, and the movement is so sudden and telegraphs so perfectly Buck's need for affection that Eddie's heart swells and breaks. "But Dios... I'm proud of you."

"I told my dad no." Buck's mumbling, now, seeming more concerned with Eddie's hand on his neck and his fingers scratching affectionately at the base of his skull. "Anyone could do that."

"Sure, but you did it, not anyone else."

Buck blinks slowly at him. "You were gonna come with me."

"Yeah. I might've fought him at the dinner table, but I was gonna come with you."

"It's gonna sound dumb," Buck says, "but I kind of... when he showed up I kind of forgot you're on my side."

Eddie shakes his head. Sometimes, early on, when Shannon would show up demanding to see Christopher, he'd do the same - forget that Buck was on his team and that Buck wouldn't do the same to him as Shannon did.

"I get it," he says, and Buck smiles. "Hey, let's watch something. You want to? We can stay in."

"That sounds great," Buck says.

~*~

They're still on the couch when Chris comes back from abuela's.

Buck's changed into a pair of sweats and one of Eddie's baggier hoodies, and he's lying across the couch with his head in Eddie's lap, happily soaking up any attention he's given. He only brightens when the door opens.

"Buck!" Chris yells excitedly. "Buck, where are you?"

"In here," Buck calls back, smiling. "How'd you know I was here, huh?"

"Your truck is out the front," Chris giggles, and he comes over to hug Buck tightly. "Are you feeling better?"

"Am I feeling better?" Buck asks, seeming confused.

"Daddy said you were sick," Chris informs him. "Are you better?"

"Oh. Yeah, I feel lots better." He glances briefly at Eddie; Eddie shrugs back. He had to tell Chris something. "Where've you been, huh?"

"Abuela's," Chris says, and wriggles until Buck hauls him up onto the couch. "She said she had to go. She's got dinner with her friend."

"So I get you all to myself, huh?" Buck asks, and smiles when Chris giggles. He seems to brighten just having his son around, and while Eddie gets it as a parent, it's sometimes startling to see on Buck. He forgets, sometimes, that Buck hasn't been here the whole time - that Buck, at twenty six, has involvements with children limited to them excitedly hanging off him at the firehouse.

Chris leans in for a hug, kisses Buck's cheek. "Me and Dad will make you feel better," he says.

"Dad and I," Eddie corrects distractedly. "Your phone's ringing."

Buck sets Chris aside to pick it up. "Hello?"

Eddie watches as his face arrests, and he ducks his head. "I told you I'm not coming," Buck says.

His father. Eddie's belly does a somersault. He hates the way Buck's whole body curls inwards defensively just talking to the man on the phone.

"Yeah, I was serious," Buck mumbles. "I'm not meeting up with you for dinner... yes, even if Eddie's there."

"What's wrong with Buck?" Chris asks.

"He's just a little sad," Eddie says. "That's all."

"I don't care if you show up at my place," Buck says. "Do, don't, I don't give a shit. I won't answer the door either way. I'm done, Dad. Whatever game you wanna play, I quit."

With that, he hangs up, paces once around the living room before standing frighteningly close to the front door. He came here, Eddie thinks, but that doesn't mean he won't take off again. And he doesn't want Buck to take off because - where will he go? How long will it be before Eddie manages to soothe him again?

"Stay for dinner," Eddie blurts out, and Buck twitches like he'd forgotten they were there. "Seeing as our plans are off."

Buck looks to them, blinks, and seems to come back a little. He sighs as he rejoins them on the couch, and Chris crawls into his lap.

"Who was that?"

"My dad."

Chris considers, kneading his fingers into Buck's shirt like a kitten. "He made you sad like Liam gets sad," he says finally. "Is your dad mean to you like that, Buck?"

There's a long pause, where Buck is clearly considering what to tell Chris - how much, and when, and how. "Yeah, buddy," he says finally. "He was."

Chris looks up at him. "I'm sorry," he says. "Dad will protect you."

Buck looks up at Eddie and gives a wobbly smile. "I know."

~*~

When Buck wakes from a nightmare that night, Eddie's not surprised.

What does surprise him is that Buck gulps down a few deep breaths, looks around blearily, and immediately begins to categorise the things in Eddie's room. He's still clutching the duvet in between both hands, but he relaxes slowly.

Eddie inches closer, puts a hand on Buck's hip. "Okay?" he asks sleepily. "No bathroom?"

"Not tonight." Buck takes another deep breath. "Yeah. I'm good."

He doesn't lie back down, so Eddie sits up with him, puts his head on Buck's shoulder, and nestles in close. Buck's been able to train more now that he's fully rehabbed, and his traps and delts have rounded out beautifully.

"You look great," Eddie murmurs past a yawn.

"Huh?"

"Your training. You look great." Buck's at the point of being almost significantly bigger than Eddie, who's muscular, but not in the broad, barrel-chested way Buck is - he's more svelte, leaner. Buck is sheer power.

"You think so?" Buck asks, and he's smiling now.

"Mm." Eddie runs a hand up Buck's bare back, digs his fingers into Buck's shoulder, and smiles when he feels Buck relax into his touch and sigh. "You should give me some pointers."

"You don't need pointers from me." Eddie shivers as Buck's hand runs down his chest, then his belly, fingertips sliding beneath the elastic of his boxers teasingly. He can't help but arch up into the touch - it's been too long since they managed to do anything.

"Chris..." he mumbles.

"Is asleep," Buck murmurs back, tilting his head up and kissing him softly. His tongue licks into Eddie's mouth, leaving no doubt what he actually has in mind, and Eddie lets him lead, lets Buck swallow his gasp of pleasure when Buck's hand dips all the way into his boxers to tug him, tantalisingly slow and gentle.

His own hands wander, cross over onto Buck's thighs until he finds the rigid line of Buck's cock beneath the sweats he's worn to bed. With just the suggestion of Eddie's touch, Buck's hips pick up, and he makes a soft noise into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie breaks away. Buck's eyes are hazy with lust, and they flicker from Eddie's eyes to his lips hungrily. "Why'd you stop?" he whispers.

Eddie reaches into his side table and pulls out a tube of lube, waves it triumphantly. Buck's response is to kick off his sweats - he was going commando, which makes Eddie's mouth dry - and swing himself around until he's sat on Eddie's lap.

"Don't start what you can't finish," Buck murmurs, leaning back in to kiss him.

Buck's naked now, and if they're quiet, there's no reason this should wake Chris. Eddie runs his hands up Buck's sides, dragging his nails over the slight lines of Buck's ribs against his skin to watch him shiver, and pushes himself up a little bit.

"You want me to get you ready or not?" he mumbles, fumbling for the cap on the lube.

He feels Buck's mouth curl in a smile, and he moves into a position that gives Eddie easy access. "Do what you need to do," he murmurs.

It's a little different, prepping Buck in this position, where he has to reach mostly blind. It's exhilarating, to be able to pay more attention to Buck's body language - the way his abs tense with pleasure when Eddie presses lightly at his entrance, or the way his shoulders suddenly slump and relax as his head tips back, mouth open, when Eddie squeezes his cock with one hand while slowly teasing him open with two fingers.

To his credit, he does keep quiet. Eddie almost wishes they were at Buck's, because while the soft gasps and bitten-off, whispered moans of his name are gratifying, the noises Buck made last time are bouncing around in his head on a loop.

Buck reaches for the condom, lying abandoned on the bed, and rips it open with his teeth, smirking wordlessly as he rolls it down over Eddie's dick. Even his touch is almost too much, and Eddie realises - when Buck pushes on his wrist, gently, indicating he should stop with the prepping - that Buck intends to ride him.

"Fuck me," he whispers.

"That's the plan." Buck slicks him up. "Hold still."

"Okay," Eddie says weakly.

Buck leans forward to kiss him as he sinks down, hands gripped onto the headboard as he does. He's tight and hot around Eddie, his weight across Eddie's hips and thighs delicious, and his scent - woody cologne and the faintest hint of sweat - drifts across Eddie, blankets him in a heady, almost dazed sensation, like he's underwater, dreaming.

Buck settles with Eddie fully sheathed inside him, his chest rising in a shaky sigh, and Eddie leans forward to mouth at his throat, tangles a hand into Buck's short hair and uses the other arm to hold him upright. Buck moves his head until his cheek rests on Eddie's hair, and Eddie can feel his pulse thundering away under his tongue.

"You feel so good," Eddie whispers, pushing up experimentally, and Buck utters a whisper-soft whimper. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Buck murmurs back. "Move."

Eddie puts his free arm around Buck's waist, digs his heels into the bed, and rocks experimentally. Buck's body goes loose and pliant with the movement, and his head tips back again, and Eddie realises he can absolutely use his leverage to thrust up and meet Buck's body.

They rock like that for a while, slowly, with Buck arching into him and seeming more concerned with kissing him than anything else. He's got one hand on the headboard and the other arm curled around Eddie's shoulders, and he's breathing heavily, cock beaded with precome.

Then Eddie bucks up a little harder, and Buck's mouth slams shut around a moan, and he trembles around Eddie's dick. Eddie switches positions, leans back to where he was against the headboard and puts his hands on Buck's hips, coaxes him into a new rhythm that's a little faster and rougher.

"Eddie," Buck says, just shy of too loud, and Eddie - looking for a way to keep him quiet - reaches up, puts his hand gently over Buck's mouth. It's oddly intimate, to feel Buck's breath hot against the palm of his hand, the way that Buck looks at him through hooded eyes with the action.

"Lean forward," Eddie whispers, and Buck does, giving Eddie just that bit more leverage. "You gonna be quiet for me, mí amor?"

Buck shudders and whimpers behind his hand, and it takes Eddie a moment to realise it was the nickname that set him off that time. He drives up, a little harder, and Buck rolls back to meet him, his arms corded with the effort of holding onto the headboard and a flush beginning in his chest.

"Touch yourself," Eddie murmurs, and Buck lets go of the headboard with one hand to comply, staring down into Eddie's eyes soundlessly as he spasms, then comes, his breath wet and hot against the palm of Eddie's hand. Eddie's not far behind - the coil of pleasure in his lower belly and spine releases, and he thrusts up hard enough that Buck bounces, and then they're spent.

Eddie moves his hand, and Buck leans down to kiss him, panting. "Was that good?" he whispers.

Eddie flexes his hips, groaning at how his thighs burn with the motion. "Hell yeah."

Buck grins, then gets off him, grabs his sweats, and says, "I'll be right back."

Eddie disposes of the condom and waits until Buck comes back with tissues and a cloth. He's already cleaned himself off and does so for Eddie too, almost lovingly. Eddie stretches back with a smile and says, "I could get used to this."

"Don't," Buck mumbles, smiling. "Chris is still asleep."

"Thank God. Sorry I had to cover your mouth."

"Don't be, I liked it," Buck says, and then clicks his mouth shut like he's massively outspoken, his face flushing from neck to the tips of his ears. "Um..."

Eddie pulls him in close. "If you wanna try something, you should tell me," Eddie murmurs. "I'm more than happy to at least talk about it."

"You don't think it's weird?"

"I already knew you liked getting pushed around and having your hair pulled. It's not that weird." Eddie hesitates. "Are you... into choking, or...?"

"No," Buck says quickly. "No, no. It's not - it's not about that. I just, uh - you feel safe. I like it when you make those choices for me."

Eddie's a little speechless at that. Buck is happy to let Eddie push him around and pull his hair and cover his mouth... because he trusts him? "Okay," he says. "Well, I like doing those things for you. You'll tell me if you don't like something?"

"Of course," Buck says.

"You know you're allowed to tell me if you don't like something?" Eddie asks shrewdly.

Buck slips back into bed next to him and lies down, eyes immediately soft and sleepy, and yawns. "Yeah," he says. "You won't hurt me."

He says it confidently, and it's with that comment that Eddie realises Buck's had a few nightmares lately, and hasn't hidden in the bathroom for any of them to Eddie's knowledge.

He slides down in the bed next to Buck and pulls him in close. Buck's weight settles over his side, deliciously heavy and comforting against the slight chill in the air. "Proud of you," he says, pressing a kiss to Buck's head. "Get some sleep, cariño."

"Night," Buck mumbles, kissing Eddie's shoulder clumsily. "Love you."

Eddie smiles up at the roof. "Love you too."


	24. Blaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you for all the love on previous chapters and short stories and all the comments and feedback! it makes my day to get it honestly.
> 
> this is the last chapter before moving into the second arc of the story - and i still don't know how long this is gonna go for by the way lmao
> 
> as usual, you can find me at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

"So they booked me in for my medical examination," Eddie says. "One week from today."

"Awesome!" Buck's voice comes. He's the first point of call whenever Eddie gets a little further in the process. Right now, Eddie's sitting at his kitchen table, staring at the confirmation email - a little unable to believe he got this far - and Buck is saying, "You'll pass that for sure."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm not worried about the medical. The psych on the other hand..."

Buck sighs. "Yeah. Speaking of psychs, mine just forced me to realise things I was happy not realising. Wanna come over?"

Buck had booked an appointment after his dad visited. It was probably needed, but he sounds sort of low now. "Yeah, it's Chris's night with abuela," Eddie says. "I'll come over. When will you be home?"

"Maybe an hour?" He hears a car door slam. "I'll leave the front door open for you."

"You sure? Your dad-"

"Is probably not gonna walk in on me in the shower, Eds," Buck laughs. "I'll see you soon."

~*~

When Eddie gets there, the shower is running, and Buck's left him some lunch on the kitchen counter - burgers with haloumi in them, one of Eddie's favourites.

They're still warm, so Eddie sits down to eat and thumbs through his phone while Buck showers. He considers getting in, but then he thinks about Buck coming out in just a towel and thinks better of it. Besides, Concrete has just fallen down the stairs and Eddie's too amused by watching him clatter to his feet on the hard wood floors.

"One of those nights, huh, buddy?"

Concrete meows mournfully and hobbles over to Eddie, somehow managing to jump onto his lap without overshooting. "See?" Eddie asks him, running a hand over Concrete's fur, "that's progress!"

"Good conversation?" Buck's voice asks.

Eddie looks up. Buck has exited the shower on the lower floor, wearing nothing except a towel, hair and chest still a little damp. He's smirking in a way that tells Eddie he knows exactly what the sight of him is doing.

"Eddie?" he teases. "Are you actually _speechless_?"

"Shut up," Eddie grumbles, and Buck grins wider. "You did that on purpose."

Buck shrugs, then wanders over, leans down to give Eddie a kiss and hold his face. The towel slips and falls, and Eddie makes a noise that may sound a little like he's begging for something.

"Oops," Buck whispers.

"Buck," Eddie groans helplessly. "This is entrapment."

"Entrapment means you don't wanna be here," Buck says. "Which I know is a lie." Still, he picks up the towel. "Lunch good?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. I'm thinking about lunch right now, totally."

Buck sighs dramatically. "God, I make my boyfriend lunch and he doesn't even think about it. Honestly. I'm so undervalued-"

"Shut up," Eddie laughs, lunging to catch Buck's wrist and pull him in closer. "Thanks for making me lunch. I love you."

Buck looks so pleased that he said it Eddie wonders if it's been a while. It's not something he's ever said often, but maybe he should start, because Buck is looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, and he sits down on Eddie's lap.

"Dios," Eddie huffs, but he winds his arms around Buck's waist. "Okay."

"You're comfortable."

"You're wet," Eddie says, and Buck smirks. "You know those huge ass dogs on YouTube that think they're lap dogs because they don't know how big they are?"

"Yeah?"

"Well..."

Buck steals some of the haloumi out of Eddie's burger, then stands up, smiling. "I'll go get dressed. Finish eating, I wanna go out."

~*~

"So, how'd you go at therapy?"

Buck takes a huge lick of his ice cream cone, wincing. Eddie's not sure if it's brain freeze or the question that causes it, in all honesty.

It's not like they normally talk about this stuff. God knows Eddie hates it. But Buck brought it up over the phone, which makes Eddie think that maybe he wants to talk about it.

"We talked about my dad," Buck says. "Which sucks. It always does. I just - I don't feel like me whenever he's around, you know? I turn into this person I don't recognise and I go into a shell and I avoid people. That's not me." He shakes his head. "I want to work on being less like that."

Eddie wants to say Buck could just cut him off altogether, but he knows Buck has probably already considered that. It was scary to see Buck like that, but he has to remember the night after - where Buck woke from a nightmare, but didn't go and hide in the bathroom. He hasn't done that in a long time.

"So, what did your therapist suggest?" Eddie takes a bite out of Buck's ice cream and Buck mutters something about him being a freak of nature for it before pulling it back.

"To talk to you more. Lean on you more." Buck scratches the back of his neck. "I already feel like I do that a lot," he admits. "I've never told him no before. I just felt like I could, because I knew you'd back me on it."

"You're damn right I will," Eddie says determinedly. "I'd back you on it if you decided you never wanted to see him again. He doesn't deserve to have you in his life."

Buck smiles, a little fragile. "Well. About that."

"Yeah?"

"I kind of told him I'm not going to be speaking to him anymore, and to stay away," Buck admits. "It didn't go over very well."

"When did you tell him this?"

"When I wasn't answering the phone. Or texting. He didn't believe me I don't think, until I didn't show up to dinner. Anyway, I know you probably would've wanted to be there, but I needed to do it on my own."

Eddie nods. He sort of gets it, he thinks, as much as he can without having lived it - Buck spent his life under Paul's thumb, then Matt's. It's probably been a long healing process, and learning he can stand on his own two feet and not have to just run or submit is probably a revelation to him.

Eddie's the opposite. Eddie reached out, in his own way, and failed to be understood again and again. Buck wanted to learn how to do it, and Eddie was forced to.

"I'm proud of you," he says, deciding not to bring his abandonment and intimacy issues up right now. "And I'm glad you're okay."

~*~

"Are you going to swan around shirtless every time it gets over sixty five degrees?"

"Don't act like you don't love it," Buck teases, walking through Eddie's living room carrying a basket of laundry.

"You make it so hard to get anything done," Eddie groans, and Buck's grin widens as he puts the basket down, then walks over to where Eddie's crunching numbers for the bills, shoves him back against the couch, and climbs on top of him readily, settling down before Eddie can move.

"I'm not swanning now," he says innocently.

"Jesus, Buck." Eddie's remembering the last time Buck sat like this, except last time he was naked and taking Eddie for a ride - literally. "You're lucky Chris isn't home."

"And won't be for at least three hours," Buck whispers, leaning in close and drawing Eddie into a brain-melting kiss. He squirms up close, until they're chest to chest and Eddie can run his hands all over the broad, soft expanse of Buck's shoulders and back.

"Buck," he says weakly. "The bills..."

"Are boring." Buck stretches his arms out over the back of the couch, and Eddie steadies him with his hands on Buck's hips. "And Chris really will be out for a few hours, and the bills don't take that long..."

Eddie hitches Buck closer with a little groan. "God, you're evil."

"You love me," Buck smirks, and Eddie flips him, none too gently, so that he's lying on his back on the couch. When Eddie surfaces from Buck's neck, Buck is flushed, pupils blown, and he pushes up against Eddie's hold until it's clear he's not going to get free, then settles.

Eddie raises a hand to Buck's hair, admiring the way he's gone soft and pliant underneath Eddie's weight, well and truly trusting him. "This is getting long," he murmurs, stroking the soft, fluffy strands.

Buck tips his head back, chasing Eddie's affection and exposing his throat without a moment's hesitation. Eddie leans down, delivers a gentle kiss to the sensitive spot on the side of Buck's neck, then begins to suckle gently.

(Buck loves having hickeys. Eddie knows this, even though it doesn't seem like something Buck is ready to admit to anyone just yet.)

As he works, Buck's body erupts into shivers beneath him, and he lets his legs fall open so that Eddie can squeeze in between them. The couch is too narrow for them, which they both already know, but it doesn't stop them from trying, and Buck makes up for the lack of space by squeezing his thighs around Eddie's hips anyway.

He reaches up, cards his hand through Buck's soft blonde hair again. Buck squirms with the sensation, sighs, then mumbles, "I was thinking about shaving it."

It takes Eddie a moment to register that - he's got Buck's pulse point under his tongue and he's chasing it down to Buck's chest - but when he does, he jerks his head up to stare at Buck's face.

"You're what?" he demands.

Buck blinks his eyes open. "I'm thinking about shaving it," he says. "It's too long. It'll be hot in summer-"

"No," Eddie says, and Buck grins, almost evilly.

"Are you... _attached_ to my hair, Eddie?"

"Yes," Eddie says helplessly. "Just - cut it if you want, but please don't shave it."

"You buzzed all your hair in the middle of winter and I felt like I didn't know you for at least two weeks," Buck says, and Eddie rolls his eyes at how perfectly dramatic and Buck that sentiment is. He'd buzzed it and when he'd come home, both Buck and Chris were horrified, and Buck had said, "Talk to me when you're Eddie again," and that had maybe been Eddie's early encounter with just how dramatic Buck was capable of being.

"I'm sorry," Eddie whines, and Buck laughs, his chest shaking with it, his eyes bright and happy. "I'm sorry, okay? Please don't shave it." He runs his hand through it again. "How am I supposed to pull it if you shave it?"

A pretty pink flush works its way into Buck's cheeks. "Okay, well, when you put it that way..."

"Exactly. Older, wiser, all that."

He's just ducking back down for Buck's neck, intending on wiping the smirk clean from Buck's face, when there's a knock at the door.

He makes to get up, but Buck's legs grip his hips tightly. "No," Buck mumbles unhappily. "It's probably just Jehovah's Witness-"

"Buck," Eddie laughs, swatting Buck's hands away as he stands up. "C'mon."

Buck sighs, staring at Eddie mournfully as he leaves the room and opens the door, smile still firmly plastered on his face.

It's Shannon.

The smile falls, and they stare at each other as Buck crashes off the couch in the background and yells, "Tell them we're godless heathens engaging in homosexual-"

Then he rounds the corner, also sees Shannon, and abruptly stops talking. A flush works its way up his chest, and he mumbles, "Gonna find a shirt," before hightailing it out of there so fast Eddie wonders how he's ever considered Buck brave.

"Hi," he says slowly.

"I need your help," Shannon says, voice wobbling a little.

"Okay?" He stands back to let her in - Chris isn't here, he reasons, and Buck can take care of himself. Well, mostly. "What with?"

Shannon twists her hands together anxiously, her eyes flitting behind Eddie for a moment. Buck's drifted back into the room, still a little red and pulling a shirt down over his torso. Either he was embarrassed by being seen shirtless by Shannon, or he's suddenly developed shyness. Eddie doesn't think it's the latter.

"I need you to withdraw your statement against Ricky," Shannon says.

Eddie's jaw drops. Of all the things he figured Shannon was here for, this didn't rank anywhere on the list.

Buck makes an odd squawking noise. "You want him to what?" he demands.

"Withdraw the statement," Shannon begs. "It's only going to get worse if you don't - Eddie, they want to charge him."

"That was sort of the point of making a statement," Eddie says disbelievingly. "Shannon, he used your phone to call here at two in the damn morning, told me to let you see Chris or he'd make me, more or less. I'm not withdrawing the statement or the charges."

"If you don't withdraw it, he's going to get so much worse!" Shannon panics. "Eddie, don't do this-"

"Why are you protecting him?" Eddie demands.

She stops talking, stares at him with wide eyes. "I'm not," she whispers. "I'm trying - I just want to see Chris, and if the courts - if anyone realises that I was with him and this happened-"

"Shannon, I won't withdraw any of this and make it go away just so that it can all happen again," Eddie says heatedly. "Ricky is dangerous and you know that. You need to leave him. I don't have a problem with you - I want you to be able to see Chris! But I do have a problem with Ricky. Ricky would hurt him. He already has-"

"Why are you still standing here?" Shannon demands of Buck. "This isn't any of your fucking business-"

"This is his home too," Eddie says. "Don't talk to him like that. He's welcome here and he's done a damn lot more to protect Chris than you or Ricky have in the last few months. Seriously, Shannon, why are you with a guy who hit our son and called him a cripple?"

Shannon shrugs, hugs herself. "It's not like I've got anything else," she says. "Or anyone to go to."

Eddie's not quite sure what to say to that, because Shannon can't stay here if Ricky is gonna come looking for her. "You need to ask for help," he says, feeling fairly helpless himself. "Ditch him, make a statement to the cops - we can protect Chris together."

"The best thing to do for Chris is withdraw the charges and not have him go to court," Shannon says. "And if you were thinking about him instead of revenge-"

"Revenge on who?" Eddie demands. "You? For pushing it so long? On him for hitting Chris? I'm not looking for revenge. All I want is for our son to be safe. I thought you wanted that too."

"Chris can be safe without this needing to go to court," Shannon says heatedly.

"You said you came here for help," Buck says softly. "So why not let Eddie help you? What can we do?"

Buck, ever the peacekeeper.

"You can help by dropping the charges and withdrawing the complaint," Shannon snaps. "And if you won't do that there's nothing to talk about."

Eddie's tempted to say "bye then" but he's looking at her and he's known Shannon for the majority of his adult life - he knows her angry and scared and seven different kinds of annoyed, even after having split up. He knows her.

And the way she's acting isn't anger. Not her usual brand, anyway. It's fear.

"You're scared of him," he says. "Shannon, c'mon, let us help. Please. I don't want to keep Chris from you. Whatever he's done, whatever he's doing-"

Her face shuts down. "He's not," she says, except it sounds like the biggest lie Eddie's ever heard her utter. "He won't, not to me-"

"Shannon," he begs.

"You know what? Forget it." Shannon goes to leave, and Eddie follows her to the door.

He can't grab her and make her stay, but he can at least call out, "You have my number if you need anything," from the doorway, and hope that she gets the message.

~*~

He asks Athena for advice, but Athena can only advise him that he can't make Shannon leave.

"I've seen it hundreds of times, baby," she sighs into the phone. "Shannon has to be ready to go. It has to be her decision. Otherwise she'll go back. All you can do is let her know it's okay to do it."

"It doesn't feel like enough," Eddie says.

"It never does, hon."

Eddie rubs his face, pacing another length of Buck's kitchen. Concrete - lying on his side with his back paws hanging off the kitchen counter - watches him lazily. "I can't even help her financially," he mumbles unhappily. "I just - I don't have the money."

"Even if you did, it wouldn't be that easy," Athena assures him. "You can physically remove her from the situation, but that doesn't mean she isn't mentally there anymore."

Eddie considers that - thinks of Buck and the way he shut down and didn't stand up for himself, even when his abusive father showed up in his apartment. Thinks of the way he tried to reach out to Buck, the way it fell mostly on deaf ears until Buck was ready to come to him.

"Yeah," he says. "But it sucks."

"Look, I'll put in some referrals, see if I can get her into transitional housing," Athena says. "But I can't do anything if she doesn't answer the phone."

Eddie nods, even though she can't see him, and they end the call. With that, Eddie jogs the steps to Buck's lofted bed, where Buck is soundly asleep after a long shift at the firehouse.

He sighs. Buck is safe from Matt now, and from his father, Eddie's sure. He hasn't said much about Shannon, really, and it's hard to know what he's thinking on that front. Eddie had worried that maybe Buck was annoyed at Shannon's continued involvement in his life, but... that doesn't seem like the reason he's remained quiet about it.

He crawls into bed with Buck and settles against Buck's side - Buck's on his back, face turned away from the stairs, but once Eddie settles in with his head on Buck's shoulder, the other man rolls his head to press a sleepy, clumsy kiss on Eddie's temple.

"Hi," he murmurs sleepily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Hmm." Buck smiles, eyes still closed. "You smell nice." With that, he rolls so that he's able to fully hug Eddie, rubbing his chin in Eddie's hair. Almost like Concrete, Eddie reflects, except Concrete usually tries to chew it as well.

"Why're you worried?" Buck murmurs, and Eddie sighs. He knew Buck would work it out - he always does - he just figured he might have a little more time before he did.

"Shannon," he explains.

Buck blinks his eyes open. They're soft with sleep, and he regards Eddie with a calm, somewhat concerned expression. If Eddie had brought up an ex-partner of his to Shannon, even in the context of being worried, she would have been annoyed at the very least - but Buck doesn't seem like he is.

"Did Athena help?" Buck asks.

"A little," Eddie sighs. "She basically said I can remove her from the situation physically but not mentally."

Buck nods, closing his eyes again. "Like you tried to do with me and my dad. Which I really appreciated, don't get me wrong. It just had to be me that did it."

"You think Shannon will come around? Like you did?"

"Maybe. I've been coming around to the idea of my dad being sort of a dick and not worth my time for twenty six years, Eddie. Shannon's only been with Ricky for, what, a few months now? Maybe half a year? It'll take time."

Eddie nods.

Buck swallows, then tucks his head down where Eddie can't see his expression. "I um, I heard you talking about not being able to help her financially," he says uncomfortably. "You know I - if you need help, with the bills, or..."

He trails off awkwardly, clinging to Eddie in an effort to stop Eddie looking at him. He clearly thinks the offer won't be well received, but - well, they're a team, and if Buck's offering, maybe it's okay to ask him to cover Chris's PT this week. Just this once, Eddie promises himself, just to take the load off.

"Chris has PT this week," Eddie says, and Buck lifts his head, clearly surprised. "If you're really offering-"

"Yeah, of course," Buck says eagerly, and leans in to kiss Eddie happily. "How much? I'll send it to you."

"I'll text it to you." Eddie kisses Buck gently, hoping to convey just how grateful he feels. "Thank you."

Buck settles in against him with a bright smile, and not for the first time, Eddie thinks he lucked out.

~*~

The thing about luck is that it only takes you so far.

A week later, Eddie has picked Chris up from abuela's and is planning on at least trying to make something that has more protein than carbs in it for dinner, which means a supermarket stop on the way home.

Buck's coming over as well, which he's excited about, to be frank. Buck's worked odd shifts the last weeks, quick change over and nights and twenty-four hours all in one. He should be finishing his latest twenty four hour shift around eight tonight, and Eddie's happy to see him.

Even Pepa is in on the action tonight. Once she finds out Eddie intends to cook for Buck, she comes over with nothing more than a, "The boy's just finished a day-long shift and you want to kill him, sobrino?" and Eddie wants to splutter indignantly but something weird happened to the squash and he doesn't know how to fix it.

With both of them chopping vegetables and Pepa trying to explain to him that having the water as hot as it can get isn't necessarily a good thing, Eddie finally has time to ask Chris about his day. Chris is sitting at the dining table, working on his math homework, talking about his teachers and friends and-

"Liam wasn't at school today," he says, absently, working away at his times tables.

Eddie has a bad feeling about that for some reason. "Really?"

"Yeah. I missed him at recess." Chris's tongue is poking out - he looks remarkably like a little Buck when he does it. "Yesterday he said his mom was really sad."

"Did he say why?" Eddie asks slowly.

Chris blinks at him. "His mom and dad fight," he says, abandoning his homework. "And his mom wants to leave. Like Mommy did to us."

Eddie shares a worried glance with Pepa. It's unusual for Liam to not be at school, and even more unusual that he would actually confess to something being wrong. His spidey senses are going haywire.

"Will you watch Chris?" he asks Pepa softly. "I'm sure it's nothing. But-"

"You're a good man, Eddie," she says, patting his cheek. "Go. I'll watch this one."

Eddie kisses Chris on the way out - tells him he forgot something at the supermarket, which is so in line with his parenting that Chris just giggles - and heads out to the car.

He's sure it's nothing. But he needs to know. Just in case.

The first thing he notices, getting close to Liam's house, is the glow on the horizon. The sun set a while ago, and the sky has begun to turn inky black with the approaching night. The glow is bad, and Eddie steps on it - rounds the corner to the flash of blue and red lights, police cars and fire engines and the house, in flames.

"Oh, God," he says, and he's out of the car before he really stops to think about what he's even going to do once he gets there. Liam's dad is in the back of a police car and one of the ambulances is open - someone is being loaded into it, but he can't see who.

The fire engines say 118 on them. His stomach turns. The house is still on fire and he can see a few of the members of the 118 inside the ambulance, working on the person on the gurney, but nobody he's really familiar with.

Buck must be inside.

Bobby is the first person Eddie sees, emerging from the left hand side of the house. Then Hen and Chim, and Chim is the first one to recognise him - the first one to push him away from the house and say, "Eddie, what the fuck-" and Eddie says, "Buck's in there, isn't he?"

"He went in for Liam," Bobby says. "We couldn't find him on the first floor."

An alarm sounds on their equipment. Bobby grabs the radio. "Buckley, get out of there, right now."

"What's that mean?" Eddie demands.

"He's out of time," Chim says. "If he's not out of there in two minutes - Eddie, stop!"

He doesn't even realise he's struggling until he's pushed back by Chim and Bobby. "What're you gonna do?" Chim asks. "You run in after him you're another body for us to worry about. Buck's got nine lives. He'll be out in no time-"

The front door of the house explodes outwards, and Buck staggers through the doorway, Liam's limp body in his hands. It's only when he makes it down the steps that Eddie realises he's not wearing his oxygen mask - it's over Liam's face instead.

They make it to Buck just in time for Chim to grab Liam off him, and for Eddie and Bobby to catch Buck as his knees give out. He's coughing so hard his eyes are streaming.

"Help me get his turnout gear off him," Bobby instructs, and they begin to divest Buck of his turnout coat. Beneath it, he's only wearing the LAFD t-shirt, and his skin is steaming - the fire was so hot it turned his sweat into steam. His skin is angry and red, like it's burned.

"Here," Hen says, and she's looping a mask over Buck's face and getting the oxygen switched on. There's a pulse-ox clipped to Buck's finger and Eddie notices that despite the sweat, he's shivering - the night has gotten cold.

"Get a gurney over," Bobby instructs. "He's going to hospital."

"No," Buck croaks. "I'm fine-"

"Stow it," Bobby says tersely. "You took your mask off in the middle of a fire. You've got all the symptoms of smoke inhalation. You're going."

"Liam needed it more," Buck rasps. Then, noticing Eddie putting his jacket around him, "Eddie?"

"Fancy seeing you here," Eddie says stiffly, trying not to show how worried he is.

"What're you doing here?"

"Chris said Liam didn't come to school today. I had a bad feeling. Can't tell if it was on his behalf or yours now. What were you thinking?"

Buck blinks big blue eyes up at him - they're red-rimmed and there's bags under them and he looks exhausted, and Eddie's heart breaks a little when Buck says, "I just didn't want him to die, Eddie," and he leans in, hugs Buck close.

"You'll stay with him?" Bobby checks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll stay." Eddie's shaking now. "Ambulance?"

"Hen and Chim will take him - Liam and his mom have gone already." Buck's leaning a little on Eddie now, breathing deep through the oxygen mask. "Buck, you do what they say, alright?"

Buck salutes weakly, and Bobby stands to continue managing the scene - the house is still in flames, and if it's hot enough out here that Eddie's sweating, he can't imagine what it was like inside for Buck.

Hen and Chim are back with the gurney, and Eddie helps Buck onto it, noting the wince when it's jolted off the ground to be rolled into the ambulance. "You hurt?" he asks.

"Took a fall," Buck rasps.

"We'll check that out in there," Hen says to Eddie, and they load Buck into the ambulance. Hen's in the back, while Chimney hops back out, allowing Eddie space to climb as well.

"Okay, Buckaroo, let's do this," Hen says, fussing over the blanket on Buck's legs as Chimney slams the door to the ambulance and hops in the driver's seat. "Keep the mask on unless I ask you questions, okay?"

Buck nods. Eddie takes a seat nearby, hating the fact that they're in an ambulance and grateful that it's precautionary more than anything else. Hen clips the pulse ox to Buck's finger again and begins to get pads on his chest and stomach, moving them until Buck's vitals come up.

"Okay, good," Hen murmurs. "Let's check that chest out, okay?"

Buck lifts his shirt up for her, not speaking - which he's been instructed to do, but freaks Eddie out all the same. So does the livid bruising coming up on Buck's left side, and the way he flinches when Hen touches it.

"No broken ribs," Hen assures them both as she probes Buck's chest wall. "Blood thinners make it look a lot worse than it is, but we'll do an x-ray at the hospital to be sure. How we doing, Buck?"

Buck pulls the mask down a little. "Good," he croaks.

"You dizzy, lightheaded, having trouble breathing? Spotty vision, pain?"

Buck shakes his head, mask firmly back in place. He gives Eddie a small smile. There's soot on his face, and Eddie pats his leg.

"We're clear to offload at Cedars-Sinai," Chim calls from the front. "Ramp time is fifteen minutes."

"Got it." Hen looks to Eddie. "Offloading might be a bit dicey if his ribs are injured, but you should be able to stay with him as they take him in. You're his emergency contact, I can't imagine it'll be a problem-"

"I'm his emergency contact?" Eddie blurts, and Buck turns bright pink, looks down as his fingers twitch together nervously in his lap.

"You sure are," Hen says, a knowing, teasing tone to her voice. "Feel special."

Eddie actually kind of does. Buck has a sister who's present and involved in his life, and he could've left it as her. He didn't. He chose Eddie instead, went to the effort of getting everything swapped around - including all his H.R paperwork.

He squeezes Buck's shin, the only part of him Eddie can reach, and smiles when Buck looks up. Buck smiles back tentatively.

When they get to the hospital, they have to wait twenty minutes before offloading Buck from the ambulance and getting him into the E.R. It's chaos, with a few gurneys lined up inside, and Buck winces even as they're gentle rolling him out and inside the doors. It's at least a little warmer in here, Eddie reflects.

As Hen does handover to the nurses and Chimney raids the supply of rubber gloves at the triage desk, Eddie steps up to Buck's side and puts a hand on the back of his neck comfortingly. Buck sighs beneath the mask - Eddie can only tell because it fogs up - and lets his head drop onto the pillow tiredly.

"You doing okay?" Eddie asks.

"I hate hospitals," Buck says, muffled by the mask. "There are people who need help more than me."

"You inhaled a lot of smoke," Eddie warns. "You should know better than anyone the risks that can carry. The people who need more help than you are getting it, so just relax and let everyone take care of you. Okay?"

Buck salutes him lazily, but he does sink back into Eddie's hand. Eddie rubs absently, watching the people around him - there's an elderly man moaning in pain, a teenager with restraints on and cuts to his wrist, and a little girl laying on her mother's chest on the gurney, whimpering.

Buck, shockingly, is the best off out of all of them. Liam isn't here - Eddie guesses he was sent right through.

He notices after a few minutes that Buck's breathing has evened out, and that Chim has returned to his side and is filling out the patient transfer paperwork. "Is it fine for him to sleep?" he asks, trying not to sound like a worried mother hen and sounding exactly like that in the process.

"Yeah, he's fine. Pulse ox is good. He'd done a twenty four hour shift anyway." Chimney peers at Buck. "Yeah, that's our Buckaroo. Leave him unattended for more than a minute and he's off to Dreamland."

Eddie relaxes a little, then. Takes out his phone, asks Pepa to keep Christopher a little while longer.

Eventually, a nurse comes to find them. As they're wheeling Buck into an actual room, he rouses and blinks up at Eddie.

"Where are we going?"

"You got a room. You're snoring too loud."

Buck laughs, then coughs a little beneath the oxygen mask. Still, he moves to an actual bed of his own accord and hugs Hen goodbye, fist bumps Chim, and downright refuses to change into a gown. They find him scrubs instead.

"Hey," Buck says, as the nurses are getting everything hooked up. "I'm gonna be stuck here getting tests I think. Um, could you try to check on Liam?"

Eddie wants to stay. He's loathe to leave Buck's side for even a moment, but he also knows that Buck is an adult, and that he'll be fine - Liam, on the other hand, is a kid, and probably a scared one at that. Every paternal instinct in him tells him to check on the kid.

"Okay," he says reluctantly. "I'll try."

~*~

Liam is asleep when Eddie makes his way over to the children's ward, although the nurses are at least kind enough to tell him how Liam's doing.

"Some burns," one of them says. "And a broken collarbone from falling through the ceiling. His grandparents are flying in to look after him, given that his mom..."

Is in hospital herself. Eddie feels sick with the idea that he might have gotten there too late - that despite all Buck's efforts and the truly insane rescue he pulled off, it might not be enough. Liam's mom might not make it. Liam will, but his mom, on the other hand...

He leaves Liam to rest, but asks the nurse to let him know if the little guy wakes up. When he returns to Buck's room, Buck is dead asleep - without the mask, but with an oxygen cannula instead. There's no IV, which bodes well.

Eddie settles in at Buck's bedside with a sigh, his own eyes drooping with the movement. It's not even that late - it's maybe nine in the evening - but Eddie's exhausted as it is, and they're likely to be here a while, waiting for test results.

He puts his head down on the mattress with a groan. What a day. Liam will be alright, and Buck will be fine, but Liam's mom might not be. And nobody will tell him anything about that.

Buck twitches, and Eddie lifts his head wearily to find Buck yawning. "Hey," he says softly. "Sorry I woke you up."

Buck lets his head fall back against the pillow, lets his eyes drift. "Back in the ward?" he questions.

"Yeah. Waiting for your results I'm guessing."

"Eddie, you can go home," Buck says apologetically. "I'm okay."

"Oh, shut up," Eddie mutters, and Buck smiles. "You know I'm not going anywhere, but thanks for the gesture. You want water?"

Buck swallows, then winces. "Is there ice?"

"Yeah, I'll go find you some."

There's ice in the hallway, and Eddie takes a moment to just breathe before filling the styrofoam cup and heading back in to Buck's room. Buck's alert, not seeming groggy or sleepy, knows where he is. It seems almost silly to waste a bed on a person who is only waiting for test results, but Eddie knows how quickly things can get bad with smoke inhalation.

"You know," he says as he settles in again, "this whole bedside vigil thing? It's tired." Even as he says it, he's spooning up some ice chips and feeding them to Buck, even though Buck's arms work perfectly fine.

"Sorry," Buck says, after having crunched the ice chips up. "I'll try for something different next time."

Eddie laughs, puts a hand in Buck's hair and runs his fingers through it, smiling softly as Buck arches up into the touch. He forgets, sometimes, how primed Buck is for affection.

"I can see that you're capable of moving..."

"Dote on me," Buck whines, his eyes huge and convincingly smitten.

Eddie rolls his own, but he can't help but be relieved that Buck's up for joking, even if his breathing does still sound a little wheezy. The mask has left grooves on his face, and when Eddie sits on the edge of his bed, Buck puts a hand on his thigh, chewing on his ice chips idly.

"How's your chest?" Eddie asks.

"No idea." Buck accepts another spoonful of ice chips, crunches them up with his teeth, and licks his lips. "I've been asleep."

"Smartass," Eddie says, and Buck smiles.

"Bucky!"

They both turn, seeing Christopher and Josephine in the doorway. It's so far past Chris's bedtime it's not funny, and he arches an eyebrow, but Pepa just responds in kind and says, "He was worried about his Buck," as Chris races to the bed, pats Eddie's knee until he's up on Eddie's lap.

"Hey, pal," Buck says, smiling.

"Are you okay?" Chris worries.

"Yep! The doctors are just being careful, that's all." Buck smiles as Pepa leans over to kiss his forehead. "Hi, Josephine."

"Always in trouble, mí amor," she scolds gently, but affectionately. "If you want some homemade food this badly, all you need to do is ask."

"I'll remember that next time," Buck says, ducking his head with uncharacteristic shyness. "Hey, Chris, what's the matter?"

Eddie looks down to see Chris's lower lip wobbling. "I don't like it when you're hurt," he says, and his voice breaks on a sob.

"Oh, buddy..." Buck reaches out, and Eddie passes Chris over. Nothing to serious must be wrong with Buck's ribs, because he doesn't seem bothered by having to take Chris's weight. "It's just a precaution. They're just being safe. I had an x-ray and they're gonna watch my breathing - that's it, pal, I promise."

Chris sniffles, tucking his face against Buck's neck. Buck meets his eyes, and Eddie knows they're thinking the same thing - that Eddie's going into this job too, and that it's gonna be hard for them both. For all of them.

"You promise?" Chris asks, voice waterlogged.

"I promise, buddy. Look, they're not even making me wear the mask anymore." That's not strictly true - it's been replaced with the oxygen cannula instead, but Chris does seem to feel better. "Hey. Can you do me a favour?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, your dad was giving me ice chips, but he's being lazy and won't give me any more. Will you take over?"

"Yes," Chris says, his jaw set determinedly, and goes about beginning to spoon ice chips into Buck's mouth. He's a little clumsy with it, and pokes Buck in the cheek, chin or nose more than once, but Buck accepts it gracefully and smiles every time he does manage to get a mouthful.

"Evan Buckley?"

It's a nurse, smiling, who says, "Oh, this is lovely. Your son's a very good nursemaid." Then, before anyone in the room can correct her, she continues on with, "We'd like to take you for a full workup - just to be cautious."

"Sure," Buck says. "See, Chris? A whole bunch of boring tests, then they'll let me out of here."

They don't allow Eddie to accompany Buck for the tests, and Chris and Pepa eventually go home - with Pepa promising to look after Chris until Eddie's free again. By the time they've finally organised moving Buck out of the room and into more tests, it's past eleven, and when he returns - looking exhausted and cranky - it's four in the morning.

"How'd you go?" Eddie asks sleepily.

"They want me to have a bronchoscopy in two days' time," Buck says shortly. "Previous embolism, cough that won't go away, smoke inhalation, all that. But they're letting me go."

Eddie stands. "I'll come with you," he offers.

Buck shakes his head. "Thanks," he says, so softly Eddie thinks he might feel a little sorry about his shortness. "But I think I need some... I need some time to process. And sleep. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Eddie replies, even as he wants to protest that Buck shouldn't be alone. "But... is the hospital happy to let you go like that...?"

"Eddie," Buck says, giving him a small smile. "I'm just gonna go home and sleep. Really."

"Really?" Eddie asks suspiciously. "You can stay with us..."

"I have to feed Concrete. And I feel bad for not spending enough time with him." Buck ducks close for a kiss; he's a little wheezy still, maybe from the smoke, maybe from the cold. It's raining outside, and he's got his shoulders hunched like he's cold. "I'll text you when I'm home safe, I promise. I just - Liam shouldn't be alone right now, you know?"

Eddie does know. He thinks of Chris alone in a hospital bed after - well, anything - and his gut lurches. Liam's mom can't be with him, and his grandparents are still a few hours away. It might be four-thirty in the morning, but Eddie can live without some sleep for the peace of mind.

Eddie could stay until they get here, then go check on Buck, maybe.

"Okay," he says reluctantly. "But you heard the doc. If you start feeling like you can't breathe..."

"I'll call 911," Buck promises. "I'll text you when I get back, promise." He waves his phone. "I'll call a taxi. Don't even have to drive."

"Okay." Eddie helps Buck gather his things, and they wait in the taxi bay together, hunched against the early morning chill still lingering from winter.

When the taxi pulls up, Buck turns to him and gives him a quick kiss. "I'll text you," he promises again.

"Okay," Eddie says, and then, "I love you."

Buck's smile finally takes on a softer edge. "Love you too, Eds," he murmurs. "Stay safe."

"Will do."

~*~

With the arrival of Liam's grandparents to mind him - and their profuse thanks - Eddie takes off from the ward and stands outside, blinking, so tired he can hardly think of what to do next.

Except go to Buck's.

His own car is still at Liam's, which is probably for the best, given he's only gotten snatches of sleep over the course of the night. Still, Buck's spare key is on his keychain, so it's only a twenty minute drive across town - outside peak hour times - to get to Buck's building, through the front door, and up the elevator.

He lets himself into Buck's apartment quietly.

The moment he does, he's greeted to a meow from the staircase. Concrete is watching him with big gold eyes, and while he paces at the top of the stairs, he doesn't come down. That's unusual, given how desperate for affection Concrete is.

"Okay, buddy, it's okay," Eddie says softly, closing the door and peering around. Buck's hoodie is dumped on the counter, along with his keys and his wallet. Concrete's food bowls are overfull, as usual, and Eddie's not getting the sense that anything is amiss.

He checks the living room quickly before climbing the stairs to the loft quietly. It's early in the morning, but Buck's blackout curtains are firmly drawn, bathing the room in an ethereal blue light. Concrete chirps at him happily.

"Hey, buddy." Eddie leans down to pet him. "You making sure Buck's okay, huh?"

Concrete mewls in affirmation, and Eddie steps in carefully, noting that Buck's only got the duvet pulled up to his waist, and that he's lying on his side, facing away from the stairs. Eddie knows Buck well enough by now to know that he normally sleeps on his back, so he carefully climbs onto the bed and leans over Buck's shoulder to check his face.

He looks - fine, if a little bit flushed from the warmth in the room. His phone is sticking out from under the pillow, and the inhaler the hospital gave him is clutched in one hand. He's sleeping with his mouth open, also unlike Buck.

Eddie sighs, kicks his shoes off, and then slips under the covers. As he does, he notices that Buck is wearing a long-sleeved shirt to bed, as well as plaid pyjama pants. He must have been cold from the rain when he got home.

He slips up behind Buck, snaking a hand over his waist to tug him in close. "Hmm?" Buck asks, voice hoarse and sleepy.

"Just me," Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of Buck's neck. "Go back to sleep."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Buck's arm moves over his; he shuffles back until Eddie stretches his other out under Buck's head. "Mm. S'nice."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie says, amused. "Go to sleep."

Buck coughs then, this awful, wheezy thing that suggests the smoke inhalation hasn't quite gone away, and Eddie rubs his sternum absently, helpless to do anything other than listen as Buck's breathing evens out just enough for him to take a puff on the inhaler.

"Is that helping?" he asks.

"A little." Buck tugs Eddie's arm closer. "Came to visit?"

"Nah, I just wanted to eat your food then leave," Eddie says, smiling into Buck's neck when he feels Buck's chest shake with a tired chuckle. "Of course I came to check on you, mí amor."

Buck rolls a tiny bit, smiling. He doesn't seem like he's going to go back to sleep now. "I like waking up with you," he mumbles, his eyes flickering over Eddie's face. "You look worried."

"You took your mask off in the middle of a fire." Eddie runs a hand through Buck's hair. "Did you expect me not to be?"

"I kind of didn't expect you to be there," Buck admits. "I'm not sorry I did it though. Liam's gonna be fine and so am I."

Eddie sighs. He figured that would more or less be Buck's response. "Yeah. I think I would've done the same."

"Awesome," Buck says, a little smile playing on his lips. "You're not here to chew me out, which means you're totally here for "thank God you're alive" sex."

Eddie groans, dropping his forehead to Buck's. "That's actually not what I came here for," he protests weakly.

"But?" Buck smirks. "I can hear a but in there somewhere."

"But," Eddie murmurs, skating a hand down Buck's abdomen and delighting in the way the muscles twitch eagerly at his touch, "I wouldn't be opposed to... showing you just how glad I am that you're alright. In a non-rigorous way, of course."

"Right, doctor's orders," Buck murmurs, arching into Eddie's touch. "You know I'm not good at following those-"

"I know," Eddie says, and begins shuffling down Buck's body. "Which is why you're gonna stay still and let me take care of you."

"I like the sound of that..."

~*~

Eddie drives Buck to his bronchoscopy two days later, because Buck is going to be drugged for it and won't be able to drive.

They mostly sedate Buck before the procedure even starts. At some point, Buck goes from pleasantly relaxed to downright stoned, looks up at Eddie and mumbles, "So _pretty_. Hey. _Hey_. Do you have a boyfriend?"

Two of the nurses in the room giggle quietly.

"Who, me?" Eddie asks innocently.

"Yeah I'm talking to you!" Buck says indignantly, trying to struggle up to his elbows and failing. "You're like, the prettiest person I've ever seen!"

The giggles turn into full-blown laughter at that. "What does it feel like to be loved this much?" one of them asks Eddie teasingly.

"When I figure it out I'll let you know," Eddie says dryly, and watches as they spray the back of Buck's throat with a numbing agent.

"Yuck," Buck whines, then licks his teeth. "Yuck. Why, man?"

"You'll thank them later," Eddie sighs.

Buck blinks, then grins widely. "But I'm good at having things in my-"

" _Buck_ ," Eddie interrupts, feeling his face flame. "Okay, can we get the tube in his throat now?"

The procedure goes off without a hitch. Buck's sedated and doesn't really seem to be that aware of what's going on, and the pulmonologist seems happy with the image of his lungs. "Lovely and pink," she says cheerfully.

"Hear that?" Eddie asks. "Doc here says you have pretty lungs."

Buck doesn't really respond to that - he looks like he's mostly knocked out, if it weren't for his eyelashes fluttering sleepily. Eddie was allowed to stay on the provision that he gowned up like the rest of them.

"Okay," she murmurs. "Yeah, I'm happy with this. Doesn't look like there's any lasting damage from the smoke - his throat was a little irritated going in, that could be the cause of the cough, but there's no cauterisation or burning here." She begins to withdraw the scope. "Let's get this out of him and let him sleep off the anaesthetic," she advises the team.

The tube is removed, and Buck is reclined in the bed he's been sitting in. He mumbles a hoarse, startled, "Whoa," as it goes down, and then they head to the recovery room.

"He'll be drowsy for a while," one of the nurses says kindly. "But he'll be able to go home in a few hours. The doctor will come and see you before you leave."

Buck - who was already in sweats and a soft, worn t-shirt - dozes in the hospital bed, not quite conscious or unconscious. He mumbles a few times, coughs, but generally seems to be alright. Even so, seeing him curled up in the hospital bed has Eddie worrying.

He hasn't had to worry about anyone other than Chris like this in - a long time. A very long time. And it's not like he's stupid - he'll probably have to undergo tests like this in the future, once he's in. It's weird, knowing their roles might be reversed.

"Eddie?" Buck mumbles blearily.

"Hey," Eddie says, grateful to be shaken out of his train of thought. "How're you doing?"

Buck swallows, winces. "My throat hurts."

"Yeah, I bet. Not numb anymore?"

"No," Buck mumbles. "When's the procedure?"

Eddie smiles a little. They did mention that Buck might be a bit hazy on the details, or not remember it happening at all. "You've already had it done, cariño," he says softly.

Buck blinks. "I did?" he croaks. His pupils, Eddie notes, are still blown wider than they should be, given how bright the hospital lights are. Still a little sedated, then.

"Yep."

"How'd I do?"

"The doc says your lungs are beautiful." Eddie leans forward, cards a hand through Buck's hair. "Swallow for me."

Buck does, and Eddie watches his throat work."I'm gonna go ask the nurse if you can have some water, okay? They said it was fine once your gag reflex came back."

"Don't be too sad," Buck rasps, and smiles. "Promise it's only temporary."

"Descarado," Eddie teases, but strokes Buck's hair once more before leaving the room to hunt down a nurse. He finds one in the hallway, and she confirms that if Buck's swallowing, he can have some water - provided Eddie watches him.

Eddie pours some into a plastic cup when he's back in the room and helps Buck sit up. "Here. Slow, I don't want you to choke."

"I did that once," Buck says drowsily, taking a few sips of water.

"What, choke?" Eddie grins slyly. "Doesn't sound like you."

Buck laughs, then coughs a bit. "Took Abby on a date," he explains, voice raspy. "First time. Choked on bread. Got Heimlich manoeuvred. Didn't work. Abby had to do an emergency trach right there on the floor of the restaurant with a pen."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie says, startled. "You nearly died eating bread? Fucking bread?"

"Mm. Right here." Buck takes his hand and presses Eddie's forefinger up to a thin, hardly noticeable scar on his throat. "See?"

"And you lived?"

"I'm hard to kill."

"Obviously." Eddie leans in to give him a gentle kiss. "How's your throat? Better with water?"

"Yeah, I'll live. So the doc said everything was fine?" Buck's blinking like he's trying to clear his eyes of something. He's probably still a little groggy - in all likelihood, he will be for the majority of the day now.

"Yep. All looks good. You're clear." Eddie refills Buck's cup, passes it back to him. "Just gotta wait to talk to her before we leave."

"Can we see Liam on the way out?" Buck asks.

"Sure," Eddie says. "Buck... what the hell happened?"

Buck shakes his head. "Athena thinks Liam's dad might've set the house on fire," he says. "He's claiming mental incapacity now. Not sure why he did it or anything... and Athena won't tell me about his mom's injuries. All she really knows is that the fire was deliberate - we went back, found accelerant in the place."

Eddie nods, passes Buck another cup of water. "You good?"

"I'm so thirsty," Buck whines. He hasn't been able to eat or drink anything for four hours before the procedure, and he's been off his blood thinners as well.

"Okay, well, keep drinking," Eddie laughs, happy that Buck's not feeling sick from the anaesthesia. "We can get some food on the way out if you want."

Buck smiles. "Yeah. That sounds good."


	25. Eddie Begins Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT THIS CHAPTER: there's been roughly a 4-month time skip ahead from the end of chapter 24. eddie has gone through the fire academy and is staring his first day.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE AS ALWAYS. after this chapter updates might be sporadic, but comments are always appreciated <3
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com and https://twitter.com/redtoblack5.

Eddie had kind of figured it was just gonna be him and Chris in their little life raft.

He'd spend so long dumping water out of the boat with a teaspoon that he hadn't stopped to think another person might show up with a bucket and pair of hands, willing to help him row faster. He certainly wasn't expecting it from the move to California, or that his efforts to escape his ex-wife would lead to his fake-boyfriend becoming his real boyfriend.

Still, Buck saw the sinking raft and jumped into it with them. Buck saw them adrift and cast out a line, got involved in all the mess, and started to help Eddie empty the water. Because of him, Eddie had time to think - about a future. About something to run towards, instead of away from.

Eddie threw away the teaspoon and used the bucket instead. He found himself some solid ground, found some solid ground for Christopher and now, four months later, he's happy - in a relationship with someone whose tether to them both is so strong Eddie can't imagine it giving to weather of any kind, with something to look forward to.

Eddie had kind of figured that he'd done his dash with love, that Shannon was it and that there would never be anyone else. That him and Chris would go it alone, a team, and that he would just have to find a way to keep their shitty little boat going.

Then there was Buck.

~*~

The sun filters into the room at around six in the morning.

Eddie stretches languidly, rolls onto his side to look at Buck. His skin is glowing in the early morning light, hair tousled, eyelashes casting shadows onto his cheeks.

Eddie's belly rolls slowly, happily. He's _so_ in love with this man. To think that he nearly ruined it through fear...

Buck shifts too, then, blinks his eyes open. The moment they settle on Eddie, he smiles sleepily, shuffles closer until he can kiss Eddie's head and drape himself over Eddie's side.

"Good morning," Eddie murmurs.

"Hmm," Buck murmurs back, stretching a little. He's only wearing a thin pair of boxers beneath the sheets, and even then, only because Chris might deem it early enough to wake them up. Eddie knows if he scoots lower, pushes the sheet back, he'll find Buck's inner thighs littered with tiny hickeys, that there's at least one imprinted onto his neck, where everyone can see it.

Buck groans as he moves, then smiles as Eddie finds a knot in his shoulder and begins to work out the kinks. "You did a real number on me last night."

"You wanted me to," Eddie teases.

"Mhm." Buck rolls onto his back, then, and Eddie rolls on top of him, pushing his hand through Buck's curly blonde hair. "You're gonna have to live with it, though."

"Excuse me?" Eddie asks, grinning.

"Today." Buck's hand skims up his spine. "Your first shift... and you're on with me. You're gonna have to spend the whole shift thinking about what my thighs look like under my clothes... and my neck, and my chest..."

Eddie groans, dropping his head to Buck's chest and feeling it rumble with laughter. "Dios," he mumbles. "Didn't think of that..."

"I did. Maybe."

"Oh yeah?"

"Maybe that's why I wanted you to do it. Maybe I wanted you to mark me up."

Buck's been frank like this for the last two months - he's seemed to realise Eddie isn't going to judge him for whatever kinks he has in the bedroom, and now, he's got no filter whatsoever. Eddie shivers with his words, with the knowledge that even covered with a uniform, Buck will be marked up from Eddie's mouth and proud of it.

Eddie gets his hand in Buck's hair, tips his head back with just a tiny bit of force, and Buck sighs, going soft and pliant under Eddie's body. His lips find Buck's pulse point and he kisses there, tempted beyond belief to leave a fresh mark.

"I love you," he murmurs against Buck's throat, and Buck's whole body erupts into tremors at the words. "I really fucking love you."

Buck slings a leg over him and rolls them, until he's on top. "I love you too," he whispers, smiling at Eddie gently. "Let me show you how much?"

"Go ahead," Eddie says, as Buck rolls his hips slowly. "I'm not gonna stop you."

~*~

Despite the fact that they start at the same time, they're going to work in separate cars.

Eddie needs to do this on his own, much the way Buck needed to tell his father to piss off on his own - he's worked so hard and so long, busted his ass at the fire academy for the opportunity to join the 118, that he feels he needs to take that final step by himself.

The sun is out and shining brightly when he pulls into the parking lot for his first shift, and he takes a moment to grin like a dork to himself before stepping out and gazing up at the open truck bay. The fire engines are gleaming, spotless, and he can hear laughter inside.

Something in his soul settles. This is what he's been missing, what he's longed for - a home. Family. Something greater than himself to contribute to. Now, it's here, not only within his reach, but in his grasp.

He stands for a moment, letting it settle in - he made it. The months of applying and stressing and therapy and the further months at the fire academy, constantly worn down and tired and missing his family - it was all worth it, because now he's standing here and there's only a short ten steps between him and the threshold.

When he walks in, he takes a deep breath, blinking at the sunlight glimmering off the firetrucks and the railings of the place. He's been in the 118 before, but never like this. Never with a uniform bag slung over his shoulder and a badge burning a hole in his pocket, desperate to be worn.

"Eddie Diaz."

He turns. Bobby is coming down from the staircase, smiling in a way that suggests he's more of a proud parent than a man greeting his newest employee. "You're early," he says.

"Only get one chance at a good first impression, Captain," Eddie says, smiling, and shakes Bobby's hand when he holds it out. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, son." Bobby's eyes twinkle a little. "Welcome to Firehouse 118, Eddie."

Above them, there's a cheer. When Eddie looks up, Hen, Chim and Buck are standing at the railing, and a huge welcome sign has unfurled from the railing. He feels his throat tighten, and his eyes sting. He's sure this is just the normal welcome wagon, but...

"Buck will show you your locker and your equipment," Bobby says kindly. "After that there's some paperwork I need you both to sign from HR. Welcome aboard."

"Thanks, Cap," Eddie says, maybe a little breathlessly, and steps further into the firehouse.

~*~

"You look great."

He turns around.

Buck is beaming at him from where he sits on the locker room bench, looking like a little kid at Christmas. Eddie blushes, at least a little.

"Yeah?"

"I love a man in uniform," Buck says seriously, and Eddie laughs. "Eddie... it really does suit you."

Eddie looks at himself in the mirror. The uniform fits him perfectly, and underneath his navy blue dress shirt, the black LAFD t-shirt - the one he's admired clinging to Buck's frame so often - shows just slightly. His badge gleams on his chest. Seeing himself in the uniform after so long, after being so unsure of what he wanted for years...

Buck stands, comes up behind him, and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist, kisses his cheek gently. "Did you like the banner?"

"Yeah," Eddie smiles. "Nice way to welcome the new recruits."

Buck pulls back, smiles at him in the mirror. "Just you," he says. "We don't do that for just anyone. You're family, Eddie."

Eddie turns to kiss him, gently. Buck's smiling and warm and Eddie's finally here, amongst the people who have taken him in as one of their own.

"Come on," Buck says, smiling. "Cap has some stuff for us to sign. The bell could go any minute."

~*~

They sign the paperwork, which feels weirdly official.

It's basic H.R stuff - stuff to say they understand the risks of working together, that they face disciplinary action if their relationship inside the firehouse suffers as a result of their personal relationship, that they have to work effectively as a team and not as a couple.

There's a bunch of stuff on there about counselling services too, should they need it. Eddie reads the contract letter by letter, while Buck skims it and then signs happily.

Then there's the official tour.

Eddie's been here before - in the truck bay, with its gleaming fire engines, and the soaring, elevated dining area, dominated by a huge table and a warm, homey kitchen. Still, there are some places he's never been allowed to go - the upstairs lockers, the sleeping rooms, some of the offices, the gym. Buck shows him everything, almost skipping with how excited he is, and then they join the others for a station readout.

The station readout mostly consists of the daily assignment of chores and a warm welcome for Eddie - he highly doubts Buck is listening, given that Buck is vibrating with excited energy next to him. As soon as the readout is done, they're doing more paperwork to get Eddie set up in the system, a more in-depth tour, and then a heated debate about what they should all have for breakfast. Bobby's cooking, with Buck as his sous chef.

The bell screams right as they're about to sit down for breakfast, and for Eddie, the reaction is instantaneous - adrenaline dumps into his system and he's suddenly wide awake, buzzed, every nerve ending on fire and eyes and ears a hundred times more sensitive than they have been since Afghanistan. They're down the stairs and in their turnout gear before Eddie even has time to catch up with his own brain and realise this is his first callout, and Buck claps him on the shoulder on the way out.

"Let's do this."

A family. A unit. A team. Everything Eddie thought he had lost, crammed into the truck with him, on the way to a job.

He's never been so excited in his damn life.

~*~

"Buck, Eddie, get the hoses, work on the fire. Hen, see if there's anyone else in the property. Chim, triage anyone who's injured. Let's do this, people."

Bobby takes charge the second they get to the house. The fence is up in flames, along with most of the trees and grass on the property. He and Buck grab hoses immediately, beginning to douse the fence and trees. The fire is dangerously close to the house, and there's at least one old man nearby with burns.

The fence and trees are no match for the torrent of water the hoses unleash, and after five minutes of aggressively moving forward, systemically clearing the area, there's nothing left except smoke and dead foliage. Buck lifts the visor to his helmet and squints.

"Huh, that's a crepe myrtle tree," he says.

"Why do you know that?" Eddie asks.

"They're super hard to kill," Buck explains. "Pagans believed that the bark could be used to cultivate strength and healing if added to spells."

"We're gonna talk about your knowledge of paganism later," Eddie says, and Buck grins.

They rejoin Bobby, who's surveying the man on the ground. Hen and Chim are working on him, and a woman Eddie presumes to be his wife is standing nearby, looking furious and talking to two police officers.

"He set the damn thing on fire, that's what happened!" she says heatedly. "Doused the entire fence line in petrol to try and kill it!"

"... The tree?" the younger officer asks, sounding bemused.

"He's been complaining about it ever since we moved in! I keep telling him to go get weed killer or a professional but the man is stubborn. Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into, Joseph!"

"Oh, shut up," the man - Joseph, Eddie is guessing - groans. "It was one little mistake-"

"Actually, it's thousands of dollars in property damage," Chimney says. "Why not just do what your wife asks and get weed killer?"

"Because then she'd be right!" he spits, then coughs. Eddie's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

"Well, gas isn't gonna do it either," Buck reasons. "Crepe myrtles are really hard to kill. There's a reason they survive in warm climates - they're from parts of Asia and Australia originally. Fire is actually part of the life cycle for plants like this - it'll probably grow back in..."

He trails off at the looks he's getting from everyone around him. "Not... not the time?" he asks with a wince.

Bobby shakes his head. Eddie tries to hide a grin.

"See?" the woman snaps. "And you killed my favourite rose bush. I want a divorce."

"Okay, time for us to leave and take Joseph here to the hospital," Chimney says cheerfully. "Bye!"

"Bye," the two police officers sigh, who are evidently going to have to stay behind to take statements. "Have fun."

~*~

"Do you think she's really gonna divorce him?"

Eddie snorts. "Did you see the look on her face? I'm surprised she didn't take her wedding ring off right there."

"That's kinda sad though, right?" Buck asks, sounding a little anxious. "That you could get married for all the right reasons and then one day you just end up hating each other? I don't know, that seems - that seems really sad."

Eddie smiles at him gently. "Only if you're not paying attention," he says.

"I promise I'll never set our fence on fire," Buck says solemnly.

Eddie blushes a little, closely followed by Buck. It's not the first time Buck has accidentally referred to Eddie's house as their house - they don't live together, but Eddie can sense it's not really that far off, and Buck's slipping up more and more often with it. He apologised the first few times, but that's stopped, and now they're just dancing around the issue awkwardly.

"Good," Eddie coughs, and Hen snickers.

"You two are adorable," she says. "I'm gonna puke."

"Hen," Buck whines, staring at her as she high-fives Chim. "You said you'd stop teasing me when Eddie started working here-"

"I did not," she says cheerfully. "I said I would stop doing it _as much_. You're still the baby."

"I am not! Eddie started way after I did-"

"You're the youngest, so you're the baby," Hen says, and Buck mutters something about being a grown up under his breath that makes everyone laugh. "And there's no point pouting like a puppy dog either, Buckaroo, you know those eyes don't work on me."

Buck turns them on her, the pout deepening just a little. It's a ridiculous expression for a twenty-seven year old to wear, but it sort of works. "Are you sure?"

"What do you want?"

"One of those power bars you keep in your locker."

"Buck-! What about yours?"

"I ate them all."

"Of course you did. Look at the size of you-"

"I'm a growing boy, Hen," Buck whines, pushing into her space and wrapping his arms around her. "Please?"

"Oh, fine." She looks at Eddie. "How do you live like this?"

"I don't think Buck being clingy is a problem," Eddie grins, and is thoroughly not prepared for the megawatt smile Buck turns in his direction. "I mean, you might even say I benefit from it."

"Gross," Chimney says.

"Don't be immature, Chim," Buck coos.

"Don't be immature, Chim," Chimney parrots back, and Buck grabs a tea towel to flick him with. "Seriously, I've seen you turn to mush over almost everything, baby birds included, but this-"

"Okay, okay," Bobby's voice says, and he promptly appears at Buck's side to confiscate the tea towel. "I know your favourite hobby is to wind him up and let him loose, but we have cleaning that needs to be done."

"But dinner," Buck whines.

Bobby regards him with an amused expression. "Fine. Dinner first, then not another word of complaint. Understood?"

"Yes, Pops," Buck mocks.

~*~

The rest of the shift passes in a whirl for Eddie - he's never had any job move as quickly as this, where things are dynamic in a civilian context. It's not just the team he has to worry about, like Afghanistan - it's all the civilians around them.

This is different. In Afghanistan, it was his team - he was staff sergeant and their medic; their lives were in his hands. Now, it's not only his team he has to look out for - it's everyone else. In fact, the well-trained 118 is the least of his worries out on the road, where there are people who don't know basic first aid who desperately need their help.

There are no serious calls that day, which feels merciful, almost. Eddie settles into the routine of being yanked away from whatever it is they were doing, the adrenaline dump, and the subsequent return to normal upon leaving the job. It's a weird feeling, to just have to reel everything back in and go back to baseline - now he understands why Buck occasionally comes home and sinks into the couch for a nap before really doing anything.

At the end of the day, they pile into Eddie's car and head to Buck's to pick up Concrete - the cat has been staying over almost whenever Buck does, now, and is soaking up the attention from Chris like a sponge - and then to Eddie's.

Chris is with Liam and his mom, and so when they get in, Buck sets the cat carrier down and opens it to let Concrete run amok - probably to get into Eddie's sock drawer again - and then heads to the kitchen to make some coffee. Eddie, in the meantime, kicks off his shoes and heads to the living room, blinking blearily.

Ten hours after his shift started, and he's home. He feels like he hardly left, and yet everything looks different. "Damn," he sighs as he sinks gratefully into the couch. "That was..."

Buck appears from the kitchen, puts their coffee down on the coffee table, and slumps down next to him, turns his head to nuzzle into Eddie affectionately. "Yeah."

"This - I never realised how much it takes out of you. To have to be there like that for people all day, and then - come home and do it all again for someone else." Eddie blinks. "And the whole time we're been together you've been doing it."

"It's different," Buck mumbles, but he's smiling against Eddie's neck happily.

"It's pretty shit work," Eddie says, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Not to me. Not if it's you."

Eddie tilts his head to look at Buck, who's staring at him with such a deep, inescapable love in his eyes Eddie actually feels a little weak in the face of it. "Buck," he murmurs. He means to go on, but he can't find the words, and after a few moments he pushes himself up and swings around to straddle Buck's lap.

The position doesn't come naturally to him, really. Never has. Buck's body settles like it was made to bear his weight, his hands on Eddie's waist and his thighs rock solid. He's intoxicatingly powerful - Buck could easily hurt most people, Eddie thinks, except he doesn't want to. He's so gentle it radiates from him. It's what makes little kids and old people and sick people feel safe around him.

"Have I told you I love you today?" Eddie asks.

Buck smiles, wide and guileless, affectionate. "Yeah. Tell me again anyway."

"I love you."

Buck leans forward until his forehead touches Eddie's. In that moment, Eddie just lets the rest of the world drop away - he thinks, in this moment, that if you removed Buck's soul from his body, he would still know Buck anywhere. Without sight, without sound, Eddie would know Buck's soul just by how it feels to him. Even at the end of the world.

Buck's arms wrap around his waist, and he drags Eddie close for a hug, burying his face into the side of Eddie's neck. Eddie sighs and sinks, lets himself be held in a way that's still novel to him - it's still new, to be held like this, to be smaller than his partner. It's taken some getting used to. But Buck never makes him feel weaker for it.

A car pulls up, and Eddie realises it must be Chris coming home. He swings off Buck's lap with a sigh of regret and goes to the door. He's always happy to see his kid - but he's also happy to spend time with Buck, uninterrupted.

"Dad!" Chris yells happily, and crashes headlong into his legs.

"Hey, buddy!" Eddie leans down to hug him, kisses his head and smells his hair - Chris still smells to Eddie like he did when he was a baby, and he'll never get over it. "How was school?"

"It was great!" Chris casts his eyes around, then spots Buck's truck. "Bucky!"

Buck appears in the doorway behind him, smiling. "Hey, superman." He bends to pick Chris up when Chris pats his legs. "Hey, Liam!"

They've got sort of a system. Liam's mom - Naomi, Eddie has since figured out and made stick in his brain - drops Chris off two nights a week, usually after they've had an after school club. Tonight, she looks tired and stressed - she's looked like that more and more lately, with the trial hanging over her head and rehab for her injuries continuing.

She's lucky to be alive. It's just that some days Eddie can see she doesn't exactly feel lucky.

"Hey, Naomi," he greets, as Liam barrels into Eddie's legs twice as hard as Chris did, then goes to Buck for a hug as well. "How're things?"

"Okay." She smiles weakly, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body. She looks frail. "Um, can I ask you a huge favour?"

"Sure," Eddie says.

"Will you - will you watch Liam tonight? We have a mention hearing tomorrow and I don't - I don't want him to see me like this."

Eddie gets it. He truly does. "Sure," he agrees. "Do you wanna stay for dinner?"

"I'm cooking," Buck adds, to a chorus of cheers from Chris and Liam. "So no one will die."

"Rude," Eddie shoots back, but he's smiling.

"Oh... no, that's okay. Thank you, though." She leans down to hug Liam. "You be good for Mr. Diaz and Mr. Buckley, okay?"

"Okay, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, hon." She straightens up with a smile. "Thank you, Eddie."

"No problem," Eddie murmurs, watching as she goes back to her car. When he turns back around, Buck has a kid over each shoulder as is spinning around, laughing as both kids shriek with glee. "Dios, Buck, you're gonna make them puke-"

~*~

Liam's been staying with them more often lately.

He still gravitates towards Eddie during the waking hours, but when he has nightmares about the fire, it's Buck he searches for. Eddie supposes he'd look for the man who pulled him out and saved him as well - except, well, he'd look for Buck anywhere.

When they settle into bed that night, Eddie can't believe the day is already over. He still feels sort of buzzed with adrenaline from it - from his first shift as a firefighter. The moment he put the uniform on, something felt like it clicked; something started to feel like it made sense again.

"You're happy," Buck murmurs from his shoulder.

"Yeah." Eddie's grinning up at the ceiling like a total dweeb, but he can't help himself. "Dios, Buck, that was - I can understand why you love it."

"Yeah, it's pretty great." Buck shifts, winces. "Still. That last door breach didn't do me any favours."

Eddie sobers a little - he's happy, genuinely so, but he'd hate to think that he's so absorbed in his own life that he missed Buck being in pain. He had the hardware removal surgery only six weeks ago, and while his leg and mobility have improved out of sight, there's still sometimes pain - usually on cold days or following door breaches.

"You okay? I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine, Eddie," Buck says, a little amused. "It only came on in the last two hours or so. If I can't sleep I'll take something."

Eddie rolls Buck onto his back, and Buck lets him without a word of complaint. Eddie finds the sensitive spot in his hip, but that doesn't seem to be the problem tonight - Buck hisses when Eddie makes his way down to his kneecap. "Here?" Eddie guesses quietly.

"That's it. _Ow_ , Eddie."

"Sorry, sorry." He pulls back; he's made the mistake of doing this while Buck was recovering, too, more in medic mode than boyfriend mode, especially in the first twenty four hours while Buck was still groggy and having trouble moving around. He still regrets not realising that what Buck wanted was to be held, not assessed. "You want me to massage it?"

A pause. "We... had a really long day, Eddie, you don't-"

"Have to, I know," Eddie finishes for him. "What if I want to?"

"I mean, if you _wanted_ to..."

He gives Buck a quick kiss, then pads to the bathroom to find the leftover deep heat. It's there, in the same spot it always is, and Eddie takes it back, sighing as he sees Buck exactly where he left him.

"You know," he says, as he climbs back onto the mattress and sits at Buck's hip, "we've talked about the whole suffering in silence thing."

"I know." Buck gives him a little smile. "It just isn't worth mentioning all the time. Hmm, that's nice."

"See? You only benefit if you tell me this stuff."

Buck yawns, eyes hooded and tired as he watches Eddie. "You're not even sleepy," he accuses.

"Still a little buzzed," Eddie confirms. "Just... still not over it, you know? How good it felt to finally be there?"

Buck nods in affirmation, yawns again. "Sorry, man."

"Don't be. You're tired - get some sleep."

Buck drifts off like that, and Eddie recaps the deep heat before putting it aside and getting up to wash his hands. He checks on the kids - both of them are sleeping soundly in Chris's room, with not a hint of being disturbed.

He smiles gratefully, checks the front door, and heads back to the bedroom. As he lies down, Buck's eyelashes flutter once - he registers it's Eddie, and he's asleep again, curling one arm instinctively around Eddie's shoulders.

"Goodnight, mí amor," Eddie whispers.

~*~

The problem is - firefighting pays more than his mechanic job did, and it's a little more flexible, but it's still a struggle to support Chris on his income.

It would be hard enough with a kid that didn't have CP. CP means Eddie has to factor in other things alongside the rent and day-to-day living costs - like speech therapy, physical therapy, and medications. It's a killer, and while Chris's speech therapist said Eddie could probably afford to give it up - that Chris would only be a year or so behind if he did - Eddie won't do that.

The more stressed Eddie gets, the more Buck steps up. Abuela and Pepa are busy - Buck looks after Chris or drives him to school. Eddie's tired, not feeling well, overwhelmed - Buck tags him out and helps with homework and school projects. Eddie can't afford something, Buck buys it. Eddie has to admit it to himself - Buck has well and truly become Chris's other parent at this point, to the degree that they both keenly feel it when Buck begrudgingly returns to his apartment.

Even with Buck's help, even with the new job, the bills don't get easier. Eddie finds himself crunching numbers whenever he thinks his boys can't see him - though he usually fails, at least on the Buck front. The man is still shockingly perceptive where Eddie is concerned, and is only getting more and more so with the time that they've been together.

Saturday morning sees him in the kitchen, early, crunching numbers on the latest set of bills. There's rent and electricity and water, phones, speech therapy, physical therapy, clubs.

He hears a yawn behind him, turns to see Buck padding sleepily out of the bedroom, hair askew and creases on his cheek from the pillow. He's shirtless, cutting an impressive figure in the early springtime light, and rubbing his face with one hand.

"Come back to bed," he says plaintively, and wraps his arms around Eddie's shoulders from behind. He smells incredible - a mix of his own unique scent and something distinctly Eddie that makes him feel proud and possessive all at once. "It's early."

"I can't," Eddie sighs. "I gotta get this done."

"I'll make it worth your while..."

"I know you would." Eddie turns to kiss Buck's cheek. "But this really does need to get done."

Buck eyes the spread of paper and spreadsheets in front of him sleepily. His eyes are a little hooded - Eddie loves him like this, just woken up and still ready to go back to bed at a moment's notice, drawn out only by the fact that Eddie is no longer in the bed with him. "Big numbers," he yawns.

"Yeah," Eddie chuckles. "Big numbers."

"Coffee?"

"You're amazing."

Buck stumbles away from him, yawning again, and sets the coffee maker to go, leaning his forearms and head on the lip of the counter in a huge, catlike stretch. Eddie watches him, mouth watering a little. What he wouldn't give to not be worrying about finances right now.

Still, there are finances to worry about, and Buck will still be there in the afternoon. So he turns back to his paper, listening as Buck putters around in the kitchen and gets them both coffee, then brings it over to him. His second stop is the couch, where he grabs the Spider-Man blanket and wraps it around his shoulders with a light shiver.

"It's not that cold," Eddie says, amused.

"I wouldn't be cold if you hadn't left me in your bed," Buck protests, his eyes huge and faux-betrayed.

"Shut up," Eddie laughs. "You're so dramatic-"

Buck huffs, stands, and promptly sits himself on Eddie's lap, drawing a gasp out of him. "You are not appropriately sized to sit here," he wheezes.

"Bite me," Buck says, casting his eyes back over the bills. "Fuck. That's a lot of money."

"Sure is." Eddie sighs, looking down at the budget as he sips his coffee. Buck's free hand is playing with the hairs at the back of his neck, which is almost relaxing.

"I can help," Buck offers. "I got paid all my overtime and allowances from last fortnight. I've got some cash lying around."

He looks up at Buck with a sigh. "You on that fake dating website again?" he teases.

"What? No." Buck leans down to kiss his cheek. "I live by myself, Eddie. My apartment is rent-controlled - the owner was happy just to have someone in the building who wasn't gonna destroy it. It doesn't cost as much as you think it does to live there."

Eddie heaves another sight, staring down at his bills. "This one." He taps the physical therapy one. "This is the killer, because he sees her three times a fortnight. He needs to. It's also the one I can't do without."

"Okay, so let me help," Buck says. "I have the money-"

"Buck, I know how much you make now." It's more than Eddie, because Buck isn't probationary, but still. "It isn't your-"

"Problem?" Buck arches his eyebrows. "You know, that's funny. Sounds like exactly what I said to you when I just got out of hospital after getting bolts yanked out of my bones and I was being a real bitch about it and you were so nice to me I cried."

"You were drugged," Eddie says uncomfortably. It wasn't exactly fun, watching Buck limp around on crutches and be completely and utterly miserable for a week until the pain ceased. "Not your fault."

"I cried like a baby," Buck says pointedly. "Besides, what am I actually gonna do with the money?"

Eddie wrinkles his nose up. "Uh... spend it on another cat tree, more cat sweaters, or fake mice? Or more blue henleys, which look amazing on you, but-"

"I already have ten of them, exactly," Buck murmurs, and leans down to kiss him. "I want to help. Please. If it's your problem it's my problem."

Eddie chews his lip. The first time he let Buck pay, it was supposed to be a one-off that would help him get ahead a little - now, any time Buck gets wind of him struggling with a bill, he offers, and Eddie caves more than he'd like to admit.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and Buck beams.

"Don't mention it." He's already got his phone out to wire the money through.

Eddie rubs his face, stares down at his monthly budget as Buck stands up and clatters around in the kitchen, making breakfast. No matter which way he spins it, it's just getting hard to afford living here. LA is expensive, even on the outskirts.

"It's not enough," he murmurs.

"What?" Buck looks up from where he's cutting up chicken. "I can send more-"

"No, not... not that." Eddie laces his fingers together behind his head, blinking in frustration. "It's just too expensive overall. All of it is - the rent, the power, all of Chris's stuff, school-"

"Hey," Buck says, and Eddie realises his voice has been rising with distress. "Eddie, Eddie, hey. How long have you been worrying about money?"

"Since I turned eighteen," Eddie says sourly. "But mostly since I moved to L.A with Christopher. We couldn't stay in Texas with my family forever, you know? I'm thirty three years old, I can't live with them forever."

"Yeah," Buck murmurs. "I don't know, man. Thought about moving?"

"It'd mean moving further out. This is close to Chris's school and everything, and to abuela and Pepa. I don't have the money to pick up and move right now anyway."

Buck looks like he wants to say something, and Eddie almost wants him to say it even though it's too soon, but he just swallows and nods. "Yeah. Kind of hard to just... pick up and move."

Say it, Eddie pleads mentally. He's too scared to himself. He needs Buck to take a leap for him, here, even though it might be unfair given how many leaps Buck has already taken for him - blind, deaf, even stupid, he's jumped every time Eddie's needed him to.

"Yeah," Eddie agrees lamely.

~*~

It's not like things have been perfect.

Things have been good - great even - but not perfect. Buck is everything that Eddie had hoped for in a partner, and it's still taken him a considerable amount of time to come to terms with Buck being male, with letting go of his own internalised bullshit, with coming to comfortably accept the identity of being bisexual.

They're also two different people.

Buck has the propensity to hide things from Eddie, especially things he feels will be annoying or things that might have gotten him into trouble with his father or Matt before. It's something that he's working on, Eddie knows, but it can be frustrating to want to help and find Buck so caught up in his own head that he doesn't recognise Eddie as his team.

So yeah, there have been ups and downs. Mostly ups, which makes the downs feel even worse - like Buck hiding just how much pain he was in after having hardware removal surgery, or Eddie attempting to conceal just how difficult finances were for him.

They've mostly gotten to the square root of both underlying problems - Buck doesn't like admitting when he's sick or in pain because it makes him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability has always been taken advantage of by his father or Matt in the past, and Eddie doesn't like admitting to having financial issues because of how much he was expected to uphold his entire family with Shannon.

Things haven't been perfect, sure, but Eddie's never had a partner so willing to throw himself into whatever is necessary to make things work and to learn how to communicate. Buck's just a good human being, which is something anyone with a pair of eyes can see through and through.

Today is one of those less than perfect days. Buck comes over after a therapy session with his eyes cast down and his shoulders slumped, allows Eddie to touch him but doesn't respond to it, and slinks off to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. Eddie can't help but worry - although, as his own therapist pointed out, Buck could choose to avoid Eddie entirely by going to his own apartment.

"He wants to be in your space," Jasmine pointed out to Eddie, after almost a whole session spent worrying about Buck withdrawing from him. "If he didn't, he wouldn't go to you afterwards. It can be tempting for you to smother him to make sure he's alright, but Buck's an adult - he can make his own choices, and he can let you know what he needs."

(This is a hard pill for Eddie to swallow. He's spent so long having to make decisions for himself and for Christopher he sometimes forgets that he can't do the same for Buck.)

So Eddie sets about doing what he can - he makes them something to eat, because while he's not that great at cooking fajitas are always a win where Buck is concerned, and makes them both coffee while he's at it. By the time Buck is out of the shower and looking no less tense for it, everything is ready.

Eddie smiles at him lightly. "Lunch?" he asks.

Sure enough, a small, unsure smile twitches at the corners of Buck's mouth. "Okay."

He settles in, gets through two fajitas, and then says, "Coffee and Mexican is a weird mix," to which Eddie wholeheartedly agrees.

"Sort of our thing though, right?"

"Right," Buck says. "Sorry I was a little-"

"Nothing to apologise for," Eddie says quickly. "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah. Maybe I was just hangry."

Eddie laughs. "Maybe," he says, and as he gets up, takes a chance and settles his hands on Buck's shoulders. Buck sinks into him gratefully, tips his head back and smiles.

"Hi."

Eddie's heart swells. Buck looks a lot better, a lot less stressed, and not for the first time Eddie thinks maybe he can give himself some credit for being a good partner. "Hi," he replies affectionately. "You gonna come to the park with me and Chris tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Buck says cheerfully.

~*~

They head to the park, where Buck helps Christopher across the monkey bars so many times Eddie loses count, and they goof around on the swings. It's not busy right now, but Chris seems to know every other kid who's on the playground.

"He's such a good kid," Buck says, flopping down on the grass next to Eddie. "He's always so happy."

He hasn't always been, but Eddie doesn't say that because Buck's stretched out next to him, sun-warmed and looking entirely content with his lot in life, and Eddie's just happy to be here. He's happy to be here with his kid and his boyfriend, who was totally unexpected - in the best way.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "I lucked out."

Buck beams, laying down properly and looking up at Eddie. The sunlight reduces his eyes to pinpricks. "I'm glad I get to be in your life."

"I'm glad you didn't leave," Eddie replies, smiling.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Buck sighs happily, and the best thing is - Eddie believes him.

~*~

After the park they head home, where Eddie attempts dinner under Buck's watchful eye, still somehow messes up the rice, is saved by Buck who tells him he needed a lot more water than a tablespoon, and then roasted by Chris, who makes a show of gagging over it.

"Hey," Buck chides gently. "Your dad tried, kiddo."

"It's crunchy," Chris whines, and Eddie can't even really tell him off because... well, it is.

They play Animal Crossing for a bit - Eddie has linked the Switch up to his TV with the help of a Youtube tutorial. Eddie learns all about Zoom Island, which Chris has essentially turned into a fortress of flowers and hedges, and about the turnip trade.

"Turnips?" he asks. "They're... what about leeks?"

"No, Eddie, turnips are where it's at," Buck says smartly. "You just gotta keep your eye on the trade price. You can get up to - _oh my God Chris it's Raymond_!"

They're both lost causes then, with Buck freaking out over Raymond and Chris freaking out over Buck freaking out, and manage to convince the "cat villager" to come to their island. "We can _finally_ get rid of Camofrog," Buck gloats, high-fiving Chris. "Nice work, kid."

"I bet Raymond won't make fun of you," Chris says seriously.

"He better not, or he's on a one way plane outta here."

Teeth brushing is handled by Buck while Eddie cleans up after dinner. When he re-enters the bathroom, Buck has his own toothbrush in his mouth, and is saying thickly, "Did you get the molars?" to Chris, who's giggling as Buck makes a show out of scrubbing his teeth.

Eddie's heart swells fondly. God, does he love his boys.

"I got everything, Buck," Chris giggles. "Stop."

"Okay, okay, if you say so." Buck helps Chris spit, inspects his teeth, and then spits in the sink himself. "How are mine?" he asks, baring his teeth.

Chris eyes them critically, as if Buck doesn't have some of the nicest teeth Eddie's seen on a person. "Good," he declares finally.

"Hear that, Eddie? My teeth-brushing skills are up to speed." Buck stands. "Bed?"

"Story!" Chris pleads.

So they do story time. While Buck finishes up with that - yawning through a great deal of it - Eddie starts getting school lunches ready. Soon enough, he hears Chris's bedroom door shut, and Buck's footsteps padding out tiredly.

"He's down," Buck yawns.

"He's not the only one," Eddie teases, pulling Buck in close by the waist and kissing his cheek gently. "Go get ready for bed. I'm not far away."

Buck doesn't leave immediately - he leans on Eddie for a long moment, sleepily, trusting Eddie to keep his weight upright. Then he steps away and moves slowly down the hallway, stretching his arms up over his head.

Lunches. Dishes. Homework into backpack, work uniform out of the washing basket and into the bedroom. Buck is sprawled out under the covers, looking like he's trying to stay awake until Eddie joins him.

"Dude," Buck whines, proving Eddie right, and rolls to try and grab him. "C'mon."

"I'm almost done," Eddie laughs.

A knock on the front door sounds. Eddie looks at the clock - it is early-ish, so maybe it's abuela bringing over some leftovers. For Buck, not for Eddie, undoubtedly.

"Why does the world hate me," Buck mumbles into his pillow.

"Probably for the endless drama," Eddie teases, headed to the door. "Just stay there. I'll be back."

He jogs lightly down the hallway, checking to see that Chris is in bed asleep still, and then pulls open the front door.

"Ricky," Eddie says slowly, his gut lurching.

Ricky smiles, all teeth. "I told you to let Shannon see Christopher," he says. He doesn't look particularly threatening, or like he's about to cause any issues - but he's here, and Buck is inside and Chris is asleep. Eddie thumbs his phone in his pocket.

"And I told you to kiss my ass," Eddie says. Ricky's almost as tall as him and fairly solid, and Eddie thinks, uneasily, that it could be only just shy of a fair fight if he had to get into it. "She's still with you, huh?"

"Sure is." Ricky shrugs, an exaggerated movement. "Can I come in?"

"I think the fuck not."

"Maybe I should rephrase that." He steps forward. "I'm coming in."

Eddie opens his mouth - to say what, he doesn't know - when Ricky's eyes drift past him to the hallway, and he steps back again. Eddie turns his head to see Buck standing in the hall, staring at them both.

"So that's Buck, then?" Ricky asks. "Shannon says he'd never hurt a fly."

But there's worry in his voice. That's when Eddie thinks of what Buck must look like to an outsider - he's packed on muscle in the last few months, going from strength to strength with his training, and while Eddie sees him and thinks of nothing but safety, it could be intimidating to the wrong person.

Like Ricky.

Buck approaches quietly, taking up the spot next to Eddie. "Is there a problem?" he asks, and Eddie, for the first time, wishes that Buck's gentle nature would give way to something made of a little more steel.

"Well, you two fairies won't let my girlfriend see Christopher, so I'm here to change your mind," Ricky says.

"You should go," Buck says lowly.

"Or you'll what? Hit me?"

"Want to stick around and find out?" Buck challenges, stepping forward.

Eddie tries not to smirk. Ricky's clearly afraid of Buck's sheer size - Buck outweighs Eddie by a good forty pounds right now, and while he has zero training in martial arts, he looks intimidating enough when angry that he doesn't have to back anything up with actions.

"Let Shannon see Chris," Ricky warns, before turning to leave.

Eddie slams the door shut, then turns to Buck, who's gone back to looking the way Eddie always thinks of him - gentle and friendly, heart worn on his sleeve, built for love.

"I didn't know you could get angry," Eddie says.

Buck shrugs. "I can when he threatens you and Chris."

"That was hot. The whole protective boyfriend routine. I suppose I could get used to it." He pulls Buck in for a kiss, and Buck goes willingly, smiling against his mouth and cupping Eddie's face in his hands gently.

"You know," Buck murmurs, "the funny part of all this is that you could almost definitely do more damage than me."

"You think so?" Eddie runs his hands down Buck's sides, feels the powerful shift of his muscles like he's a tiger ready to strike. "I think it'd be a fair fight..."

Buck smirks against his mouth. "Nah. Ricky would lose in a fight against you... I'd still take you."

There's heat in his words and it goes straight to Eddie's cock; Buck's backing them up towards Eddie's bedroom. "You think so?" he murmurs.

"I know." Another step back; Buck's pushing and Eddie's letting him, for once. Buck hardly ever gets like this - possessive, that is. Like he wants Eddie to follow his lead instead of being lead. "You wanna go for the title?"

Eddie grins, his calves hitting the back of the bed. "I like the sound of that."


	26. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... awkward hi, i'm back, what's up? thanks for the patience everyone, i still can't guarantee weekly updates but i think they'll be a little more regular now.
> 
> i deleted my twitter but i can still be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com. for those of you wondering, i wrote about the recent protests in a post HERE: https://allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com/post/620414801958633472/i-am-a-police-officer-in-australia-and-i-will-say
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy the chapter! <3

They report Ricky's attendance to the police.

Eddie's faith in the legal system waxes and wanes. Athena can't personally oversee their case, and Eddie can't help but feel like sometimes Buck gets a better response from the predominantly white police force in their area.

Still. They're helping. And at this point, after so many years of struggling to figure out the right thing to do, he's grateful for any help at all. He'll fight the fires as they pop up, not all at once.

It's easier to do with someone helping him. It's easier to do with Buck at his side, who's more than happy to throw his support behind Eddie and try to get the ball rolling. As it is, Eddie's headed home from providing another statement to the police, and Buck has picked Christopher and Liam up from school.

When he gets back, he's greeted by two hugs and the sound of Buck sniffling away in the bathroom. The weather's gotten warm and Buck's hayfever has swung into full force - he's rarely not sniffing or a little red-eyed these days.

"You doing okay?" Eddie asks, peering into the bathroom.

Another sniffle. Buck's standing with his head tipped back, a warm cloth over his face. "So stuffy," he groans.

"Isn't there something you can take?" Eddie lifts the wash cloth; Buck's eyes are red and streaming miserably, undereyes looking almost bruised. "Christ, Buck."

"I know." Buck rubs his fists into his eyes, which Eddie's sure isn't helping. "I'll take some Benadryl before bed. Makes me feel sleepy is all. I don't wanna take a nap while the kids are here."

"You could, you know," Eddie says, who's always a little worried about Buck running himself firmly into the ground through his desire to be useful to people. "We wouldn't mind. I could get them to keep it down."

"That's so boring, Eddie," Buck groans. "Seriously, it's just hayfever. I'm being a baby."

Eddie kisses him gently, mindless of the tears and the salt. He hates seeing Buck uncomfortable or unhappy, even though he knows that in the grand scheme of things, a little hayfever is probably well within what Buck can manage.

Buck pulls back from him a little, watching his face carefully. "How did it go?" he asks softly. "At the police station?"

Eddie sighs. It was bound to come up, and even if he wanted to lie, he wouldn't get away with it - Buck's eyes are analysing him, albeit gently.

"I'm over it," he says. "I mean, I know they're doing what they can, I know it takes time. I know that Shannon not cooperating and whatever situation she's in doesn't help. But... I'm just sort of over having to give statements and provide proof and questions like, how come you didn't call while he was there?"

Buck nods, his eyes flickering over Eddie's face. "I'll go with you next time," he offers.

Eddie smiles. "Thanks. But the kids needed you here today anyway. Even if you do look a little tragic."

"Hey," Buck whines. "Mean."

Buck cooks while Eddie wrangles kids, and by the time they get to bed time and they've read two stories, Eddie is more than ready for bed. Buck - who's taken two Benadryl - promptly passes out with his head in Eddie's lap, on the couch.

Eddie strokes the corner of Buck's eye, sighing at the puffiness around them and that his eyelashes are a little wet and spiky from his eyes streaming. Hayfever makes Buck miserable - hopefully the Benadryl kicks in soon.

Buck mumbles, tilts his head away from Eddie's touch. Maybe it's itchy - maybe it just bothers him. Eddie moves his hand to Buck's hair, either way, to let him sleep - even if it's just for a while.

After an episode of whatever Netflix suggested to him, Eddie rouses Buck gently and herds them both into the bedroom. Buck's still sniffly, but his eyes don't seem to be bothering him as much - he washes his face before padding off into the bedroom and slumping down on the side of the mattress he usually takes.

Eddie crawls in after him, runs a hand along Buck's back and smiles when Buck shuffles back into him, forcing Eddie to spoon him. "You feeling better?" he asks softly.

"Mmm," Buck says thickly. "Be better in the morning."

"Okay. Wake me up if you need anything, yeah?"

Buck turns his head enough to look at Eddie blearily. He really does look miserable. "Love you," he says.

Eddie smiles. "Love you too."

~*~

Eddie's really not expecting a phone call at two in the morning two nights later.

It's Buck's name on his screen when he blinks his eyes open, and the first thought Eddie has is that it better not be about MasterChef. The last time Buck was drinking with Maddie, he felt it important to share his opinions on the contestants - at three in the morning.

"Buck?" Eddie asks sleepily. "What's up?"

Buck sighs into the phone, a little wobbly, and Eddie sits upright in bed. "Are you okay?" he demands. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Buck says, "I - okay, it's a long story. But my apartment building is sort of full of water leaks and I can't stay there because they're gonna gut the place to get to the bottom of the problem and... well, Concrete and I are homeless."

It's said with a tone that indicates Buck's trying to be funny, but Eddie can hear the underlying worry. "What?" he asks. "How long will it take to fix?"

"Too long. Longer than tonight. Um, can I... I know it's a big ask, but can I stay with you?"

"Buck, it's not a big ask," Eddie says. "Come over. Of course you can stay here."

"Okay." He can hear the relief in Buck's voice. "I'll be there soon. Love you."

"Love you too," Eddie yawns.

~*~

Buck shows up around four in the morning, looking a little sheepish.

"Sorry," he whispers, even as Eddie kisses him and pulls him into a hug. "I know you have work tomorrow..."

"Shh, cariño," Eddie mumbles, leaning on Buck's shoulder sleepily. "You okay? You're not hurt or anything, right?"

"No. A little soggy..." He holds up a cat carrier; Concrete mewls at Eddie unhappily. "Concrete is a little soggy too."

"Okay, how about we get you both dry?" Eddie asks, a little amused. "Come inside."

Buck steps inside, putting Concrete's carrier down and opening the door. The cat tumbles out immediately, meowing and rubbing up against Eddie's legs - he is a little damp, but not as much as Eddie had expected.

"You got stuff in the car?" he asks.

"It can wait," Buck yawns. "Bed?"

"Sounds good."

~*~

They spend the next morning bringing all of Buck's things inside, much to Chris's delight, and setting up Concrete's litter box.

As they sit down for coffee - with Christopher drinking juice in the living room - Buck explains. "Something's wrong with the pipes," he says. "Anyway, I woke up to the one in the upstairs bathroom bursting. I thought it was just me, but then they came and evacuated the whole building."

"Someone will sue them," Eddie points out. "You know, maybe that old lady down the hall from you who thinks you're a drug dealer."

Buck laughs a little, smiles down at his coffee. "Yeah. Maybe. Either way, I'm taking today off - I have to move everything in there into a storage unit. Well... the stuff that isn't wet, anyway."

"Did you lose a lot?" Eddie asks, a little worried. He knows how much Buck makes - it's more than Eddie, and he doesn't have a kid to worry about, but it's not enough that he would be able to replace all his belongings on short notice.

"Nah. The TV, some of the electrical stuff downstairs. But not really much else."

"You want some help moving?" Eddie asks.

Buck smiles, shakes his head. "Nah. I gotta get a storage unit first. You go to work - I'll sort the rest out somehow."

Eddie does go to work - reluctantly - because while he'd much rather help Buck move his things than work a sweaty, hot shift in full turnout gear, he does need to pay the bills somehow. They're not getting any less steep, that's for sure.

When he returns home that night, smelling terrible and exhausted, the shower is running. He smiles, knowing that at nine in the evening and with Chris staying at Maddie's for a sleepover, it has to be Buck.

He strips all his clothes off in the hallway, kicking them into a haphazard pile before stepping into the bathroom. Sure enough, he can see Buck's impressive physique through the misted glass, and pulls the door open.

Buck's halfway through washing his hair and seems thoroughly unconcerned with Eddie stepping in to join him. "Hey," he says over the spray. "How was work?"

"Hot," Eddie replies, pressing up against Buck's back and sighing happily at the sensation of being skin to skin. "How was moving?"

"Hot," Buck replies cheekily, then turns around and puts his forehead against Eddie's. "I know you worked, but scratch my head?"

"Dios, you're needy," Eddie teases, but starts scratching Buck's scalp gently, getting all the soap suds out of his hair. The shower is hardly big enough for two full grown men, but they're managing so far - at least, if they're pressed together the way they are. "Everyone was worried about you."

"Worried?" Buck mumbles happily. "What for?"

"The whole apartment flooding thing, I suspect," Eddie says dryly.

"Hmm. Did you tell them it was fine?"

"I told them you're staying with me. Bobby says you have no excuse to be late anymore."

"I do so."

"Oh, really? What's that?"

Buck bumps him playfully, and his cock rubs up against Eddie's hip, half-hard. "Right," Eddie says. "Somehow that hadn't even crossed my mind-"

Buck grins hopefully. "But it's totally a good reason, right?"

"Convince me," Eddie murmurs, leaning up to kiss Buck gently. Buck smiles into it, backs Eddie up half a step until his back is against the wall of the shower, braces his forearms on either side of Eddie's face, and grinds his hips into Eddie's.

"Christ," Eddie groans.

"You said to convince you," Buck says innocently. Eddie is totally blocked in here, by Buck's arms and chest and sheer body mass, and there's no other way he'd have it - all he wants is for Buck to take him apart and put him back together.

"Okay, I'm convinced," Eddie murmurs. "Now show me."

Buck smiles, a little evil in the corner of the right hand side of his mouth, and slides down to his knees. "Yes, sir," he mocks.

~*~

"I think you killed me."

Buck huffs out a pleased laugh, stretching languidly on the bed next to him. The sheets are rumpled, and they both probably need showers again. "You think I killed you? Try being me right now."

"You asked for it," Eddie says pleasantly, and Buck grins into his pillow. "Let me see."

He pushes Buck's hip, a little, to get him to roll onto his side. Sure enough, both of Buck's hips are already coming up in red fingerprint marks - Eddie's fingerprint marks.

"Did I hurt you?" Eddie asks, a little concerned at how livid the prints are.

"No," Buck says, stretching a little. "Blood thinners. You know how it is. Did you hear me complaining?"

"Oh, I heard you... it didn't sound like complaining, but I heard you." His dick twitches feebly, like it wants to get hard at the memory - Buck, on all fours on the bed, back muscles flexing as he braced against Eddie's thrusts, the arch of his spine as he came - but just can't. He'll file it away for later. "You sure it's fine?"

"I'd tell you if you hurt me," Buck says.

"Well," Eddie replies, using his thumb to press idly at one of the marks on Buck's hip bone, "just be careful getting changed when we work next. If Chim sees these he'll never let either of us live it down, and he'll tell Maddie."

Buck wrinkles his nose. "And Maddie will want details."

"She will, huh?" Eddie laughs.

"She's wanted details from the get-go."

Eddie rolls on top of Buck, settles in between his hips and pushes a hand through Buck's wild, curly hair. "What'd you tell her, anyway?" he asks quietly. "About... I dunno. I've always wondered what you told people about us getting together."

"Maddie knows the truth," Buck says. "I told her after the hospital, because she was trying to get to the bottom of why we were fighting in the first place. I never really told the others, though."

"You know you can, right?" Eddie scans Buck's face for signs of discomfort, but finds none. "I know you don't like keeping secrets from them. Why hold out this long?"

Buck's hands skim his back and sides. "Just trying to protect you," he admits, a little shyly. "I'll tell them one day. Maddie knows for now, that's all that really matters to me. And that you're here. That matters too."

Eddie loves this version of Buck. He loves the Buck who will openly admit he wants to protect Eddie, that all he really wants is for Eddie to be around. He loves Buck's openness, and he loves that Buck is teaching a little of that openness to Christopher, especially with Eddie's own tendency towards reservedness.

"I love you," he says simply, because all of that feels hard to sum up into words.

"I love you too." Buck's beaming again. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, Eddie."

"Anytime."

~*~

When Eddie wakes in the morning, Buck is curled around him, his face an unhappy frown.

Eddie's immediately concerned - they went to bed on a high note, and there's no reason that he knows of that would have Buck looking so miserable. Until, that is, he leans over to grab his phone - both his and Buck's are on the same nightstand, next to the only outlet in Eddie's bedroom - and Buck's flashes with a text from his father.

Eddie sighs, abandoning his phone in favour of snuggling back down under the covers and pulling Buck into his arms.

"Eddie?" Buck mumbles.

"Good morning." Eddie makes sure to pepper Buck's forehead with kisses. "Doing okay?"

"Dad texted." Buck curls closer to him with that. "A few times. Haven't read the messages yet."

"You want me to?"

Buck grimaces. "It's not that I want you to... it's that I don't want to but I wanna know what's going on."

"I'll read them for you if you want me to," Eddie says. Buck looks tired, like maybe he didn't sleep well. "Hey, we have the day off. Why don't we get Chris and go somewhere fun? Might take your mind off things."

"Okay. Yeah, okay." Buck rolls a little to grab his phone. "If I don't read them, I'll be thinking about it all day," he says apologetically.

Buck's relationship with his father is a little more complex than Eddie had originally assumed, less black and white and more grey. While Maddie seems to have cut Paul off entirely, Buck has done it in stages - he describes it as an information diet, in which he openly sends Paul Christmas and birthday cards and hasn't blocked his number, but doesn't readily divulge anything important.

"I don't tell him everything," Buck had explained after Eddie's first meeting with the man. "I tell him some things. I mean, he didn't really know that Matt and I had broken up, obviously, or that it'd been some time since I got with you..." He'd winced. "I'm not trying to keep you a secret, Eds. I'm trying to keep you safe."

And Eddie had gotten it. He'd love for Buck to cut off contact entirely, but it's not his decision to make.

Now, Eddie watches as Buck's face is lit up by his phone screen. His eyes look big and darker than usual with the weak morning light, and he keeps his face blank, like he's aware that Eddie is assessing him.

Finally, he lets out a sigh. "Nothing important," he says finally, and puts his phone down. "Wanna get dressed?"

"No," Eddie says, quite honestly, and Buck laughs. "There's still time before we go get Chris."

"I'm starting to think you're turning into a sex maniac," Buck says, smiling.

"Your fault," Eddie replies, then pulls him in closer. "Come here."

~*~

When they get to Maddie's place, Christopher is sitting at her coffee table, watching cartoons.

"Morning," Maddie almost sings, and hugs Eddie tightly before moving to hug Buck as well. "He was great, as usual."

This is becoming a routine too. Chris stays over with Maddie and Chimney once a fortnight - they love having him, and Chris loves being here with his "Auntie Maddie" as he puts it (Eddie's convinced this is because Maddie feeds him a steady supply of peanut M&M's, but he can't bring himself to care).

"Bucky!" Chris cries from the living room. "We made Play-Doh!"

"What! That's so cool!" Buck bounds in to join him, and Maddie smiles at Eddie gratefully.

"Buck told me about what happened with his apartment. Thanks for letting him stay with you, Eddie. I was worried."

Eddie waves a hand. "Couldn't leave Concrete homeless," he jokes.

"God." She covers her face. "Concrete. I keep forgetting him."

"How can you forget a cross-eyed, three-legged cat?" Eddie wonders. "I love having him there."

Maddie grins slyly. "Concrete or Buck?"

"Uh-"

"Bucky, don't eat it!" Chris's voice shrieks, and both of them whip their heads up to see Buck suspending a bit of blue Play-Doh in his hand, grinning teasingly at Chris.

Maddie's reaction is instantaneous, and tells Eddie more about their relationship growing up than words ever could - she's running in and smacking the back of Buck's hand before Eddie can take a step, saying, "Evan Buckley, you keep that away from your mouth! It's not even edible!"

"When you used to make it for me as a kid you'd let me eat it all the time," Buck complains. "I was gonna show Chris how salty it is-"

"Buck, I was fifteen! I didn't care what you ate!"

"Okay, okay." Buck pouts at Chris. "Sorry, pal. Busted."

"We can make some at home," Chris decides.

Eddie, thinking of the amount of flour that will undoubtedly be all over the counter - and then elsewhere as Concrete tracks all three of his paws through it - winces. "Uh, how about we just take this stuff home, huh?"

They're all packed up and headed out the door - Chris is clinging to Buck happily, balanced on one hip with his arms around Buck's neck - when Buck stops to hug Maddie.

"Dad texted," he warns her quietly, and Eddie watches as her face pales a little. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I should be saying that to you, little brother." She pats his cheek. "I will. You too."

~*~

The thing about this relationship thing is - it's still kinda new.

They're still learning each other. Eddie is still learning that for all he's affectionate and attentive, Buck will always withdraw when he's upset or traumatised, and Buck is still learning that Eddie is fiercely independent - to a fault.

Living together is... interesting. It's incredible - it's waking up every morning with Buck tucked over and around him, and it's going to sleep every night with Buck more or less inchworming his way into Eddie's space. It's Buck cooking (and trying to teach Eddie) and getting to play with Chris together, without either of them worrying about a work schedule or feeding Concrete or scheduling family time.

They come home on a Thursday from a job that doesn't really rub Eddie the wrong way, but gets to Buck, who hides out for almost an hour in the bathroom - saying he's showering. The guy had jumped before they even got there - not their fault - but Buck reluctantly explains later that the first person he lost let go. Or seemed to.

They get through that. Two days later it's a war vet and Eddie is shaken so badly Buck drives them home and tells Eddie to feel what he has to. He's grateful, really, to have Buck - to not have to go back to separate houses, and that Buck understands. He's been through it. He knows what those close calls feel like.

On Sunday, Eddie comes home from a shift to find Buck staring mournfully at his laptop screen, Concrete balanced on his shoulder like a furry little gargoyle. How the cat balances up there when he still hasn't mastered the flat platform of his cat tree, Eddie will never know.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Everywhere is expensive," Buck whines.

"Tell me something I didn't already know." Eddie leans over, kisses Buck gently, and gets swatted for the effort by the stupid cat. Eddie picks him up and moves him in retaliation, incurring a wrathful, belligerent meow in the process.

"Can you two stop fighting over me?" There's a smile twitching at the corner of Buck's mouth. "You're tearing this family apart."

"Tell your cat, not me," Eddie grumbles. "Why're you looking at places to live?"

"We've been over this," Buck says patiently. "I am currently homeless."

"You aren't homeless, you live with me. My home is your home."

Buck flushes, clearly pleased with a response he wasn't even fishing for. "Yeah. But they said it could take weeks to totally fix the damage to the pipes and the building. So I figured I should start." He's back to looking stressed again. "Bobby was right."

"Bobby?"

"Bobby always said I should have a nest egg," Buck sighs. "And the first few times he said it, I was like what the fuck is a nest egg? Why are we talking about birds? Plus, I'm not good with numbers. But then he put me onto Dave Ramsey-"

"Buck, that guy is a sycophantic crackpot," Eddie says helplessly. "He pretends to help people when he really just wants to feel superior."

"Look, a lot of it is bullshit, but I did get rid of all my debt!" Buck argues. "And I sort of started trying to make a nest egg..."

"But?"

"But then I got Concrete and he's my baby and there's you and Chris and I just... look, I don't care about the nest egg. Only if I did a new place would be easier."

Eddie sits down next to him, draws him into a hug. "I love having you here," he says seriously. "Chris loves having you here. Don't worry about finding a new place so soon. What's the rush?"

Buck relaxes a little, like he needed to hear it. Maybe he did. "Okay. I mean, I like being here too, I just... I don't wanna wear out my welcome, you know?"

Eddie scoffs. "We're gonna wear out my box spring before you wear out your welcome," he says, without thinking, and Buck flushes to the roots of his hair. "Hmm. Never seen that colour before."

"You can't just say stuff like that and expect me not to react," Buck whines, crawling on top of him and pushing him back against the couch. "You might be old but I'm in my prime, Eddie."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about you and your prime." Eddie leans up to kiss him, still gentle. "But Chris will be home from abuela's soon, and I also feel really weird about getting off with your cat watching me."

Buck turns. Concrete is sitting at the end of the coffee table, ears slightly back, glaring at Eddie haughtily.

"You got a lot of attitude for a three-legged freeloader," Eddie grumbles. "What's your problem, huh?"

"He's not a freeloader," Buck coos, picking Concrete up and snuggling him to his chest. "He pays us in love, Eddie."

Concrete somehow manages to pull of purring at Buck's attention and glaring at Eddie at the same time which - well, it just doesn't seem fair to Eddie, at all. "He better start earning his keep and catching the mice," he says.

"Mice?" Buck brightens. "Mice are cute!"

"They're less cute when they eat through walls and underwear."

Buck opens his mouth to retort, but his phone vibrates, and he reaches to pick it up. "Go for Buck," he says cheerfully, and Eddie stares at him because - well, who answers the phone like that?

With Buck wandering into the hallway to take the call, Eddie looks back to his laptop, at the places he's been looking at. They're all - surprisingly close to Eddie's place, he notices with a small smile. Another tab has Google Maps open to school catchment areas.

Eddie swallows the sudden lump in his throat. Buck's obviously decided that if he's going to move, he's at least going to move closer, nearby to schools and playgrounds.

What did he do to deserve this man? After everything?

He's just noticing that all the properties Buck's looking at have yards when Buck walks back into the living room, face crunched into a worried frown and shoulders tense. His phone is back in his pocket, and he runs his hands over his hair a few times.

"Buck?" Eddie asks quietly. "What's wrong?"

Buck looks up, a sense of trepidation and hesitation in his face, and Eddie immediately straightens his spine. If it's Buck's dad, or something about his health, or Maddie, Eddie is more than ready to fight to help him.

"That was the building manager," Buck admits finally.

"Oh." Eddie nods; Buck really does look worried. "What'd she say?"

Buck sighs, comes over, and slumps onto the couch, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling. "That the damage to the building is bad, and that all the original pipeworks are shoddy," he says. "It's gonna take them four months, bare minimum, to gut the place and fix it."

"Fuck," Eddie says, noticing how suddenly exhausted and stressed Buck looks. "I'm sorry, cariño."

"Thanks." Buck gives him a small smile. "They're refunding my rent and security deposit, though, so... guess it's not all bad."

"You know you can stay with me for as long as you want, right?" Eddie asks. "I'm not gonna throw you out. You're not homeless." And, because he kind of needs to break the gravity of the situation, casts a look at Concrete, who's staring at them from a fake potted plant nearby. "And I guess neither is Concrete."

"Even though he pees in the toilet paper basket?" Buck asks.

"Even then."

Buck grins, swings himself down on top of Eddie, and kisses him deeply. Eddie contents himself with running his hands over the broad, solid muscles of Buck's back, his side, before slipping his hands up under Buck's shirt and tracing the ribs that he can feel now that Buck is all stretched out.

"Thanks," Buck murmurs huskily, taking a break from kissing him to speak. He's so close that their noses are still touching. "For having us, I mean."

Eddie doesn't say that he'll have Buck forever, but he does shuffle Buck upright to lead them into the bedroom, eases Buck down onto the mattress and steps up in between his legs. Buck is smiling unguardedly at him.

"I love you," Eddie says softly, and pushes Buck down to crawl on top of him. "You'll have a place with me whenever you want it."

Buck flips them, a full-bodied movement Eddie's powerless to stop, and curls over Eddie's body. He cuts an imposing figure with the light behind him, but Eddie only sees someone who's made it his job to keep other people safe.

Buck rolls his hips down, watching Eddie's face as he does so. Eddie grinds up into him - feels Buck's cock at his hip, filling with blood. He reaches for the side drawer, slow, letting Buck trace the movement with anticipation.

Buck always seems to want to fuck him slow, like he wants it to last forever. It took a long time - longer than Eddie cares to admit - to get to this point; to submit himself totally and completely to Buck, to trust him the way that Buck has always extended to Eddie. There are a few reasons for it, but none of them get in the way anymore.

Buck shuffles down the bed, teases him open with two fingers as he swallows Eddie's cock down, his spare hand trailing up Eddie's body. Eddie holds his breath until Buck drums lightly on his belly, reminding him to breathe, and he gives himself over to it - the pleasure of Buck's mouth on his dick, the weight of him between Eddie's thighs, the thickness of his fingers probing until they reach the spot inside him that has him arching his back, eyes rolling.

He tugs Buck's hair, and Buck whimpers a little as he's pulled off Eddie's cock. "Come up here," Eddie breathes. "Stop teasing."

"It's called foreplay," Buck says, voice husky, but makes his way up the bed and shudders, face in Eddie's neck, as Eddie rolls a condom onto him.

"Where do you want me?" Buck mumbles, his hands gripping Eddie's hips.

"Here. Like this." He bites his lip around a groan as the head of Buck's cock pushes lightly at his hole, then moves away. "Stop teasing."

"Teasing's half the fun, Eddie." But Buck leans down to kiss him deep, licks into his mouth and is jacking Eddie slowly as he presses, then enters.

Buck goes slow. He always does. It's still foreign to Eddie, the push of a dick against his ass, the fullness of it, and Buck seems to know that without Eddie really having to verbalise it - he does, on occasion, but less and less now. Buck makes it good for him - distracts him with slow, easy kisses, pumps him through it, nestles in as close as he can get so Eddie can cling to his broad shoulders - and scratch him up, sometimes.

"Buck," Eddie gasps as Buck bottoms out. "Dios-"

"Okay?" Buck murmurs, kissing Eddie's jaw gently.

"Yeah, okay." Eddie grips the back of Buck's neck, hard - he seems to like that. "You can move."

Buck leans down a little more, on his elbows, curls his hands under Eddie's shoulders to be able to hold him. Buck is always affectionate, but it's particularly noticeable like this - curled in close, hands pulling Eddie gently down onto him, his face in Eddie's neck as he noses his pulse. It's like Buck's trying to get right underneath his skin, like the idea of being separate in any way is unbearable for him.

Buck thrusts slowly, and Eddie gasps at the sensation of it - he's not entirely used to it yet, the slide of Buck's cock inside him, somehow always forgets how good it can feel - how good it does feel with Buck.

Buck lets go of one shoulder, reaches down between them, and begins to stroke him, thumb lingering over the head when Eddie's dick blurts a little precome. "Oh, fuck," Eddie groans, and rolls his hips - he can't decide which is better, the squeeze of Buck's hand around him or the fullness of him inside.

"Good?" Buck pants.

Eddie grabs his hair, yanks his head back the way he knows will rile him up without fail. Sure enough, Buck's hips snap forward and Eddie sees stars, and when he looks, Buck's mouth is open and wet and his eyes are clouded with lust.

"Harder," Eddie says - well, more demands - and Buck's pupils blow up so big there's almost no blue left in his eyes. He slams his hips forward, swallows the cry Eddie utters with a bruising, claiming kiss.

Between the thrust of Buck's cock inside him and the hand on his dick, Eddie is lost at sea, body shaking apart with the pleasure and brain foggy with Buck's weight and scent around him. He grabs at Buck's waist, angles him deeper, and when Buck hits his prostate, he holds on so hard he's sure it has to hurt.

"Eddie," Buck whimpers, and his hips are starting to lose rhythm. He's close, clearly, and Eddie can feel it in his movements and hear it in how laboured his breathing is.

"Christ," Eddie groans. "Buck, please-"

Buck lets him go and gets both hands back under his shoulders, picks up the speed of his thrusts and nails Eddie's prostate so hard he loses it - the heat curling in his belly unfurls as he comes untouched, feeling the heat of Buck's breath against his neck and feeling that Buck's on the edge.

He turns his head, grabs a handful of Buck's hair again, and pulls as he kisses Buck roughly, still riding the shockwaves of his own orgasm when he feels Buck jerk inside him, the vibrations of a cry deep in his chest, the way Buck's hips slam so hard into his he thinks he might bruise. Buck's breathing like a racehorse and Eddie wouldn't have it any other way - he loves being able to do this to Buck, being able to make him fall thoroughly apart.

After a few moments, during which Buck's hips continue to jerk lazily and his abs are still trembling, Buck begins to relax. He curls in close, still seated in Eddie's body, drapes himself entirely over Eddie's torso and wraps his arms around him properly.

Eddie turns his head to kiss Buck's temple gently. God, does he love this man. He loves the way Buck never really wants to let him go - his unreserved adoration and devotion. Eddie's not sure what he did to deserve someone this good.

"I love you," Eddie whispers into Buck's ear.

Buck struggles up on his elbows. "Love you too," he mumbles, kissing Eddie lazily.

They stay like that for a moment, until Buck decides it's too sticky and pulls out to dispose of the condom and grab some tissues. Eddie winces when he sees the lines on Buck's lower ribs - okay, he knew he held on hard, but he didn't realise he'd given Buck matching tiger stripes.

When Buck comes back, Eddie runs a hand over the marks. "Did I hurt you?"

Buck shakes his head with a yawn. "Just gonna have to think of a really good explanation when I have to get changed at work next."

Eddie laughs breathlessly. "Chimney-"

"Is probably gonna feel a little violated," Buck grins.

For a moment, they smile at each other. Then Eddie moves his hand up to Buck's hair, runs a hand through it, watching as his face relaxes happily.

"What're you gonna do about your apartment?" Eddie murmurs.

"I guess I'll have to find somewhere new," Buck sighs. "I can't really wait to see if they manage to fix the damage to the building in four months. Like, that stuff always takes longer than they say it will. My lease is up anyway."

Eddie lies there, his mind whirring away. He's been thinking this whole time that asking Buck to move in would be hard - all kinds of hard, really; complicated and messy and that he would need to wait for the right time, but-

But here it is. The perfect setting. Buck needs somewhere to stay and Eddie doesn't want him to go. He really doesn't want Buck to go somewhere else. The last two weeks have been incredible.

He thinks back to what Maddie said, months ago, at the Christmas party. "Wherever you are is exactly where my baby brother wants to be," she'd said, and he hadn't quite believed her at the time - some hurts run deep, and he wasn't sure, even then, that Buck had totally forgiven him.

But he has, and Eddie can see that. He can see it - and feel it. Buck doesn't hold resentments, and neither does Eddie, and they're working on themselves. They've even been to a few therapy sessions together, for both their benefits - Buck to learn what a healthy relationship can look like, and Eddie to sort through his first relationship with a man.

He doesn't spring the question right there, in bed, because it doesn't feel appropriate. He's going to plan it - take Buck somewhere nice, then ask him.

Buck pokes him in the side, and Eddie squirms away. "What was that for?" he whines.

"I've been talking at you for like five minutes and you're not answering," Buck says curiously. "Just making sure you're not having a stroke. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Eddie lies.

~*~

The hardest part about working together is getting time off that matches up.

Sometimes, they work a whole week straight of the same hours. Sometimes they're like ships passing in the night - he feels Buck get into bed with him late at night the same way Buck must feel him leaving scant hours later in the morning. This is one of those weeks.

So he goes to Bobby, explains the situation, and sheepishly asks if they can have an evening together off. Bobby grins at him widely as he signs off on it, leading Eddie to wonder when the man will inevitably have the "what are your intentions with my surrogate son" talk with him.

When he gets home on Thursday night, Buck is already slumped into the couch cushions, and he moans when Eddie tries to nudge him over. "Eddie," he whines. "I'm tired."

"I know." Eddie manages to make some space. "You gotta get up though."

"Why?"

"Because I've got something planned."

Buck sits up a little, eyes brightening even though he's worked a long shift - he was on overtime, supposed to finish at three with Eddie finishing at five, and only made it home half an hour before Eddie did. "You've got something planned?"

"Yeah. Put something nice on."

"Something nice?" Buck's getting brighter and brighter with every word; he gets off the couch and trots after Eddie to the bedroom. "What are we doing?"

"We're going on a date."

Buck beams. "A date? How come?"

"What, I can't take my boyfriend on a date?" Eddie puts his hands on Buck's shoulders, pulls him in close to give him a soft, chaste kiss. "I realised earlier that I never took you on a proper date. A wining-and-dining experience."

"You didn't have to." Buck's blushing a little, but he looks completely and utterly pleased with the situation. "I'm happy to chill at home-"

"I know, but you deserve it. You deserve nice things." Eddie kisses him again. "Come on, get dressed. Something nice."

Buck grins as he heads to the dresser to get some clothes out, and Eddie does the same - even with Buck getting changed in the same room as him, he sort of agonises over what to wear - he said something nice to Buck, and he wants to be able to match up. This feels important to him.

"Done," Buck says brightly.

Eddie turns around, his mouth going a little dry when he sees Buck in black dress pants and a dark maroon shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"You look amazing," Eddie manages, trying not to think about immediately divesting Buck of all the clothes he's wearing right now. They have a whole dinner to get through and Eddie's got the second-most important proposal of his life to work out. He's really flying by the seat of his pants when it comes to the scripting here.

"So do you." Buck's eyes glimmer as he takes Eddie in. "You actually scrub up nice."

"Oh, I actually do, huh?" Eddie asks dryly, and Buck laughs and pulls him in close by the waist and kisses him, so gently that Eddie has to push him away with a hand on his chest.

"You keep that up, we're not gonna make it to dinner," he murmurs.

"Wouldn't want that." Buck's eyes linger on his mouth, though. "I'm ready when you are."

Eddie drives them there. Chris is with abuela - both of them are in on the plan, and abuela's already messaged twice asking what's taking him so long to ask. But Eddie has to do this right - hell, Buck cried on Christmas day when Eddie gave him a key, and he's been with them for nearly three weeks now. This is just making it official.

When they pull up outside, Buck stares at the canopy of the restaurant, strung with lights and vines and the smell of good food wafting onto the street. "Eddie," he says slowly, "this place is expensive-"

"Is it?" Eddie asks lightly, even though he does know it is. "Come on. Let's go in."

"Are you sure...?"

"I'm sure, Buck."

He reserved a table for them and the waitress guides them over, smiling cheerfully as she rattles off the wine and specials menu, then places the actual menu down in front of them. Eddie orders red wine for them both - he knows Buck likes red wine, even if they don't drink it much at home - and hands Buck his menu.

"Don't even think about ordering from the specials menu, either," Eddie warns, already knowing what Buck is planning. "I budgeted for this, okay? I just want to do something nice for you."

"Bossy," Buck says, but he's grinning. "So if I get the lobster-"

"You might bankrupt me, but I'll still love you."

Eddie had worried that once they worked at the same place, at the same job, that there wouldn't be anything to talk about anymore. It's the opposite - Buck's got a keen, sharp mind and notices things Eddie doesn't, especially where human behaviour is concerned. Plus, Buck reads - a lot, Eddie's discovered since living with him - and is able to rattle off facts and details so fast it's almost like he's got a cheat-sheet somewhere.

"Did you know that lobsters can regenerate limbs?"

Eddie coughs. "What?"

"Yeah. It can take them up to five years. Oh, and the females lay up to twelve thousand eggs at a time."

"You didn't even have time to look this up," Eddie says, and Buck laughs. "Why do you-"

"Why do I know anything, Eddie?"

"Fair point."

"They also chew with their stomachs," Buck adds.

Eddie pours him some more wine, thinking that maybe the drunker he gets Buck the weirder these facts will become. Then, he's never seen Buck anything more than a little tipsy, so maybe he'll be a sad, crying drunk.

"So, not that this isn't amazing," Buck says, "but why?"

"What if I just wanted to take you somewhere nice?" Eddie asks, momentarily panicking at Buck's ability to perceive that something is different.

"Maybe, but I don't think that's it entirely," Buck replies. "You've been kinda weird all week."

He looks... maybe a little anxious as he says it. And Eddie realises that maybe him talking secretively with Chris about this, then Bobby, then abuela, has given Buck the wrong impression.

"If you want me to leave, you don't have to butter me up," Buck says hesitantly. "I'll go. I can stay with Maddie-"

"God, Buck, no," Eddie interrupts, reaching across the table to take Buck's hand. "Hey, that's not it, querido. I'm not buttering you up. Why would I do that to give you bad news?"

"Yeah," Buck says, and Eddie can see him reminding himself that Eddie isn't Matt and really wouldn't do that to him. Sometimes it hurts to watch - it hurts to see Buck have to actively work at reminding himself that Eddie is different. The trauma still runs deep, and sometimes - like now - that's painfully obvious.

Buck takes a deep breath. "So?" he asks. "If you're not buttering me up to ask me to leave, what is it? I know there's something, Eddie."

"Okay," Eddie admits. "Yeah. There is."

Buck watches him expectantly, taking a swig of his wine as he does so. His eyes are bright and glittery under the string of lights near their table.

Eddie swallows. "I don't want you to find a new place to live," he admits.

"I mean, I sort of have to, on account of my apartment being flooded," Buck says confusedly. "What, you're that attached to my apartment?"

Eddie rubs his face. Fuck, but Buck can be dense sometimes. It would be so much easier if he'd just realise Eddie was getting at something here, or trying to, anyway. How is it that he realised something was up, but his ability to perceive what Eddie's getting at ends there?

"Buck," he says, quietly, "I don't want you to find another place to live because I really want you to move in with us. With me and Christopher."

Buck's mouth opens, then closes. His eyes have gone huge and bright the way they do when he's downright shocked about something. He doesn't look like he knows what to say, or like maybe he doesn't believe Eddie when he says he wants this.

"We get along perfectly," Eddie says, reaching across the table to take Buck's hand. "It's been so good having you around. It always has been. I miss you whenever you go home, and think about it - this way, you don't have to worry that you're not spending enough time with Concrete, or about long drives after a twenty-four hour shift - I know our water heater sucks and that the paint is sort of peeling in the hallway but there's enough room, and we want you to stay."

Buck swallows, staring at him, clutches his fingers hard. Around them, the world blurs away.

"Stay, Buck," Eddie whispers.


	27. Quake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i'm so sorry i've been away team. but i like. actually finished the chapter. i'm not 100 percent happy with it but it's DONE OK
> 
> i got promoted and then i did a 14 week training course that nearly fucking killed me (no, actually, i nearly drowned like twice) and then i bought a house and land package and got an oopsie-boyfriend and it turns out that no matter how hard you chew it actually is possible to take too big of a bite
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com, and BIG LOVE to Blue_XI for this chapter - they left me a comment saying "pleath" and it made me laugh because i am an actual child and inspired me to finish the chapter ENJOYYYY

When they get home, Buck hesitates at the door.

"What?" Eddie asks, still giddy from dinner. "What is it?"

"Aren't you gonna carry me over the threshold?" Buck asks.

"What? We're moving in together, not getting married," Eddie laughs, but he grabs Buck in a hug and hefts him most of the way over the doorway. "Jesus Christ, Buck, you're heavy."

"Rude." But Buck's beaming from ear to ear. "You still tried."

"And threw my back out for it," Eddie teases, and Buck rolls his eyes, but bullies Eddie further back into the house, until the small of his back bumps gently into the lip of the kitchen counter.

"Where's Chris?" Buck asks softly.

"He's with abuela."

Buck kisses him again, a little more fervently this time. "I want you to fuck me," he mumbles into Eddie's mouth.

That goes straight to his cock; it fills with blood eagerly. "You do, huh?"

"Mhm."

Eddie slides his hand into Buck's shirt, feels him shiver at the touch. He's warm - warmer than Eddie's own skin - and he gnaws his lip a little as Eddie angles his hand down to brush his fingertips teasingly over a nipple.

"I've wanted to get you out of this shirt since I saw you in it," Eddie admits.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Eddie unbuttons the shirt slowly, if only to watch Buck struggle to remain patient, and backs Buck up until they reach the bedroom.

Buck fumbles behind him, and the door swings open. He turns them until Eddie's the one on the bed and Buck can crawl on top of him, just as Eddie gets the final button of his shirt open and pushes it aside a little to be able to run his hands across Buck's chest.

Buck's hard, but that's not surprising. Eddie crooks a leg and Buck ruts against it, almost desperately, his body collapsing into shivers as he does so. Eddie's fumbling with belts and pants as Buck's hands focus on the buttons of his own shirt, and soon enough, they're naked - well, save for Buck's dress shirt.

"Lube," Buck croaks.

"Mm." Eddie's fumbling in the bedside table for it; his fingers are already fluttering over Buck's hole and Buck's thighs are quivering with anticipation, his knees either side of Eddie's hips.

Buck goes to strip the shirt off, but Eddie holds him still. "Leave it on," he murmurs.

Buck nods, then gasps a little as Eddie probes him open carefully with one finger. He wraps his other hand around Buck's waist, under the shirt, nosing the stiff collar aside to get at Buck's pulse point. He loves the way the blood-red fabric makes Buck’s skin look brighter and smoother, like he’s using some sort of filter.

“Good?” Eddie murmurs into Buck’s neck.

“Yeah,” Buck whispers back, rocking onto Eddie’s hand gently. Eddie uses his other hand to grip at Buck’s good hip, sinks his fingers in until he sees Buck’s eyes cloud and knows he’s got the perfect amount of pressure there. With blood thinners, Buck might even bruise.

He loosens his grip – he doesn’t want Buck to hurt, doesn’t want to be the one doing it – but Buck gives a huff of displeasure as he does, leans forward to kiss him hard even as his hand drifts down to Eddie’s, lays over it, and forces him to put more pressure on.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie whispers, and he feels Buck smile against his own mouth. “Jesus, so demanding…”

“You like it,” Buck says, reaching over him to rifle in the bedside table. He produces a condom packet with a flourish, grinning, and uses his teeth to open it before sitting back a little.

Eddie strokes inside, a little more insistently, finds the bundle of nerves that makes up Buck’s prostate. Buck’s composure slips abruptly – his eyes roll a little, and he tilts his hips back, a silent plea for more.

Buck rolls the condom down over him, uses some more lube, strokes him gentle and then guides Eddie into his body. Eddie can’t help but dig his fingers in as he slides inside, leans his forehead against Buck’s shoulder and feels that he’s holding his breath.

“Relax, querido,” he whispers, sweeping a hand up Buck’s spine. “Easy.”

Buck’s breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he settles with Eddie inside him, flexes his hips a few times and squeezes in a way that makes Eddie start praying to whoever’s listening to last longer than a few minutes.

As if reading his mind, Buck moves until his knees are sunk into the mattress near Eddie’s hips, leans forward for a kiss until his own cock is trapped between them, and whispers, “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

Eddie rolls up, and Buck turns his face to the side of Eddie’s neck, kissing his pulse point open-mouthed and filthy. There’s plenty of time for blowjobs and handjobs, but not as much time for this – not with conflicting schedules and Chris and everything else going on.

“Hip okay?” he murmurs, noting Buck’s lack of movement suddenly. “If it hurts we can change positions.”

“It’s fine.” Buck rocks back fluidly, as if proving a point. “Just – just adjusting, that’s all.”

Eddie doesn’t think that’s it, but he lets it go. He trusts that Buck wouldn’t maintain this position if it really was hurting him. There’s just something – different, about this time.

Because Buck lives here now, and this is our bed, Eddie realises, beginning to roll upwards slowly. It’s not his bed or his house anymore. It’s theirs. He’s not just staying here – he lives here, because Eddie wanted him to and asked and Buck said yes.

He reaches between them, strokes Buck’s cock in one long, torturous roll of his wrist, the way he knows drives Buck absolutely crazy. Sure enough, he’s rewarded with an almost whiny moan, like Buck doesn’t appreciate being teased.

He smiles. “I got you,” he whispers, and they settle into a rhythm – nothing super hard, but fast, with one of Buck’s hands braced against the wall behind Eddie’s head and the other on the back of his neck, tilting him up into a kiss.

Eddie groans. Buck’s a deliciously heavy weight on his hips, miles of silky soft skin and musculature, and he’s squeezed tight and hot and damn near perfect around Eddie, moving at an almost punishing pace-

“Eddie,” Buck whispers, brokenly, and his hips stutter suddenly. “Eddie, please-”

“Easy, mi amor,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck groans, sounding like he’s anything but soothed by Eddie’s words, presses kisses so hard to Eddie’s mouth he can taste the desperation. So he leans down, takes Buck’s dick in hand, strokes-

And Buck flies apart, coming with a single stroke and all over Eddie’s hand and chest. He’s gasping, rocking still like he’s urging Eddie to the finish line, spasming tight and hot around him-

Eddie follows suit, jerking his hips up maybe a little harder that necessary as he comes, the hand still on Buck’s side a brutal grip. Buck shivers under his touch, slowly begins to stop moving.

He’s still wearing the shirt. It’s damp with sweat now. Eddie smiles up at him as he moves Buck’s arms, then begins to ease it off over his shoulders.

“My arms hurt,” Buck mumbles. “And my legs. And my everything.”

“C’mon, I didn’t fuck you that hard,” Eddie teases.

Buck mock-glares at him. “Easy for you to say. I did all the work.”

With the shirt off, he slumps down on Eddie like a giant koala, forcing the air out of him in a whoosh. They lie there like that for a moment, breathing harshly, Eddie running his hands over Buck’s spine soothingly.

“You okay?” Eddie murmurs, noticing that Buck’s shaking hasn’t stopped yet.

Buck nods against his shoulder, trembling violently. Eddie - not sure if that's good or not - smooths a hand up and down Buck's spine, his other arm around Buck's shoulders. He's sure Buck's hiding his face for a reason, but he's not about to call him out on it.

After a few minutes, Buck raises his head. His eyes look a little bit wet, but he does smile.

"You actually want me to move in?"

"I actually do," Eddie confirms. "You know, you never actually gave me an answer-"

Buck kisses him fervently, and if it weren't for the fact that Eddie only came five minutes ago, that would be enough to get him going. "Yes," Buck murmurs into his mouth. "I'll move in with you." When he pulls back, he's smiling. "Did you think that was rejection sex?"

"Hey, you thought fancy dinner was me trying to soften the blow of asking you to leave," Eddie teases, and Buck rolls his eyes, huffs. Eddie's giddy with the knowledge that Buck won't be going anywhere - this is his home, now, and he's not going to be looking at real estate listings.

Buck lifts up, wincing a little as he allows Eddie to slip free of his body, and then pads off to find something to clean them both up with. When they're done, Buck flops into bed and more or less drapes himself over Eddie's body koala-style.

Eddie runs a hand up his back, idly pausing over each bump in Buck's spine, counts them all the way up and down again. Buck must be almost asleep when Eddie says, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Buck mumbles into his shoulder.

Eddie pauses, thinking of the best way to phrase his next question. "You said, right at the start, that you were using the fake dating site to be less lonely," he says. "What'd you mean by that?"

Buck doesn't move, doesn't say anything, but Eddie knows he's no longer on the cusp of sleep by the way his breathing temporarily arrests. "I meant what I said," Buck replies eventually. "I did it to feel less lonely."

"Okay," Eddie says. "But - why fake dating? Why not real dating?"

Another drawn-out pause.

"You don't have to answer," Eddie says quickly, with the sudden realisation that this might not be something Buck wants to talk about right now - or ever. "It's not really my business."

Buck sighs against him, lifts his head to be able to look at Eddie properly. "Every relationship I'd been in until I met you hurt me," he admits, quietly, like it's something to be ashamed of. "I guess I'd just... sort of given up hope that anyone was gonna love me and not leave me a total fucking wreck. Even the good relationship ended with me getting ghosted. It just... felt easier to make it fake, maybe even let myself believe it was real a little bit of the time, than try to date again for real."

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing Buck's chin. "I didn't do much to alleviate that for you-"

"You did, though," Buck says softly. "Like, we definitely had some rough shit going on and we should've talked sooner. But you came and found me after Matt-" Here, he stops, licks his lips. "After Matt, and you stayed with me at the hospital. If I'd thrown you out you would've listened. You're not like the others, Eddie."

"Buck," Eddie says weakly. "I-"

"And," Buck says, pointedly overriding him, "you got me a key for Christmas. I guess for some people it wouldn't be a big deal, but I know it was for you. You trust me with Chris. When my stupid apartment flooded you were more than fine with me staying here."

"You were living at Abby's before," Eddie mumbles.

"Abby said I could stick around in her place if I wanted," Buck says, rolling his eyes. "You got me my own key and asked me to move in with you because you want me here. They're not the same thing. I’m not gonna pretend that Abby meant nothing, or that she didn’t help me, but… Jesus, Eddie, it’s got nothing on you.”

Eddie smiles. Leans forward, kisses Buck gently, looks down into the huge blue eyes staring back at him.

“I love you,” he says simply.

Buck’s face is overtaken by a genuine beam. “I love you too,” he replies. “Now let’s sleep… I’m throwing a party to celebrate.”

~*~

It’s rare that Eddie and Buck work exactly the same shift, but it does happen.

Usually, they overlap – Eddie will start two hours earlier or later than Buck, and tends to be given weekends off to be with Christopher. He felt bad, at first, until he found out that Hen was in the same boat and that Chimney and Buck prefer weekend work for the penalty rates.

Today is different. Today they’re staring down the barrel of a sixteen-hour shift (that Eddie can’t honestly be bothered with) and they’re rostered on for the same time. When he wakes up, Buck has already dropped Chris at school and is standing in the kitchen, yawning blearily and attempting to finger-comb his curls out of his face.

Eddie staggers the few steps to the bench and rests against Buck’s back, kissing the skin at the base of his neck. “Morning,” he mumbles.

Buck yawns again, so wide his jaw cracks audibly. “Why did we volunteer for this?”

“Money,” Eddie says. “Knocking off when abuela has Chris. Sex. Uninterrupted sex.”

Buck’s laugh is low and tired. “Yeah, not that I don’t appreciate a sneaky handjob when we’re pretty sure he’s asleep, but…”

“I know, I know.” Eddie squeezes Buck’s sides, relishes the skin and muscle jumping beneath his hands, and moves away. “Whose car?”

“Mine? I’ll drive.”

“Sure.”

Buck makes a quick breakfast, eggs on toast, and then they’re out the door. Buck toggles the radio to some generic pop, and Eddie toggles it back, and they have a slapping match over who gets the controls until they’re both red-faced with laughter.

Eddie lets Buck win, just to see the resulting smile. He’s got it bad.

They get handover from night shift – one of the rigs is out getting repairs, but there’s enough for the full morning fleet, and Bobby is already sipping coffee when they all head upstairs.

“Okay, readout,” he says, and Buck, on cue, whines dramatically.

Bobby’s mouth twitches. “Yes, Buck?”

“We know what you’re gonna say.” Buck draws himself up, puffs his chest out, and tries to look stern – and totally fails in the process. “Alright, team, listen up. It’s been a quiet night for the crew but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a quiet morning. Watch out for yourselves and each other – your safety is paramount.”

By the time he’s gotten through assigning mock-up jobs (Eddie knows he’s being made fun of when he gets cooking duty) Hen and Chim are in peals of laughter, and even Bobby is only hanging on by a thread.

“Close,” he says to Buck.

“What? It was perfect.”

“He’d never give Eddie cooking duty,” Hen points out.

“Hey,” Eddie says, without much feeling. He knows he’s terrible.

“I’d eat Eddie’s cooking,” Buck defends.

Chimney, never missing a beat, says, “Wow. It really is true love,” and he and Hen high-five each other before heading down to hose the rigs off.

“I would,” Buck assures him.

“I don’t expect you to,” Eddie admits. “I don’t want you to die.”

~*~

They're in the sleeping rooms when it happens.

It's day-shift, and they've just started, really, but the sky is still a little dark out and there's no sense in not getting sleep when it's quiet.

Eddie awakens to the sound of shattering glass and yelling, and for a moment, his grip on reality slips and he's back in Afghanistan, with shells raining around them and sand hot underneath his fingers, even at night, even in the dark.

"Eddie!"

He registers Buck's voice before he registers being yanked out of his bunk and thrown onto the floor, and he resists for only a second - until he hears the continued crashing, and feels that Buck is draped over him, pinning him to the ground, and arm shielding his head. He's back in the firehouse, in the dark, confused about the shaking of the room.

_You're on duty. You're working a twenty-four hour shift with Buck. You're on a double working with Buck and it's raining glass. It's raining glass-_

The shocks stop, and Eddie lifts his head warily. Around them, mattresses have been shaken loose from bunk beds and there's glass glittering on the floor from mirrors in the room. He can hear people yelling downstairs.

"Are you okay?" Buck asks.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "You?"

"I'm okay-"

The bell sounds, and they both stagger upright right as Bobby enters the room. "Earthquake," he says brusquely. "Seven-point-three. We're getting calls all over the city."

"Eddie, you with me?" Buck asks.

"Yeah, I'm with you," Eddie says. "Let's go."

~*~

It takes them less than two minutes to suit into their gear and pile into the 118's primary truck, which screams out of the station and into the street with Bobby driving. In the back are Eddie, Buck, Hen and Wharton, with Chimney in the front passenger seat.

Bobby gives them the breakdown from the front seat. It's an earthquake with a seven-point-three magnitude, and there are accidents all over the city, but the worst by far is one at a high rise downtown. The building is over a fault line, and there are reports of multiple people trapped and injured within.

This is Eddie's first big callout and he's sitting in the truck, staring at the destruction out the windows, as the truck rumbles along. After Bobby's safety briefing, there's not a lot any of them have to say - Buck's knee is bumping into Eddie's, and his eyes are big inside the helmet he's already put on.

Eddie doesn't have cell reception. He can't get through to Chris.

"I'm sure he's safe," Buck says, and Eddie notices that his own phone is clutched in his hand, mechanically hitting the send button over and over again. Trying to contact Maddie, in all likelihood. He looks worried. Wharton - who has two children and a wife at home - is also trying to get through.

"I hope so," Eddie says softly.

"He's at school," Buck says, worrying at his lip. "Eddie, those places are fully fitted with backup generators and shatterproof glass in case this kind of thing happens. He's in the safest place he can be right now."

“He’s not with us, Buck,” Eddie replies.

Buck’s eyes are dark within his helmet as he looks back at Eddie. “As soon as we get out of here, he will be,” Buck promises. “We’ll go straight to him, Eddie. I promise.”

Maybe foolishly, Eddie does feel a little bit better. Chris has two parental figures now who would do anything to keep him safe. Having Buck in his corner means more than he can put into words.

He nods, and he and Buck put their phones away. As much as their families need them right now – the people in the tower are going to need them a whole lot more.

~*~

“Do they really think those little sticks are gonna help?” Buck demands.

The scene is total chaos. Apparently, some genius thought that building a high-rise on a fault line was a fantastic fucking idea, and the result is this – the tower, leaning precariously to the right, with emergency relief putting support beams in place along the side.

“Okay, we’re not gonna have much time,” Bobby says. “Buck’s right, those aren’t going to hold for very long. I can’t ask any of you to do this-”

They all stand there, firm, even as Eddie’s whole body aches to go and retrieve Chris. These people need him here – and he can’t shake the sense that he needs to be near Buck. Watch his back.

“Alright,” Bobby says. “Hen, Chim, you go together – talk to the incident commander, get a comprehensive list of the people still missing. Wharton, you’re with me.”

Buck, next to him, is craning his head back. “Look up there,” he says, pointing.

Eddie follows his gaze to where the building is bent almost in half.

“Would you say that’s the eleventh floor?” Buck asks.

“I would,” Eddie says slowly.

“I bet we can get a ladder to where it angles, at the fourth floor. Cut the distance to the top one in half.”

Now doesn’t seem to be the right time to pull Buck up on his rather dubious math – rather, he turns to Bobby, who nods at them curtly. It’s a blessing – do what needs to be done, but don’t get killed doing it.

“Go,” Bobby says. “Be careful. Keep your radios on, sound off when you’re called. Understood?”

“Got it, Cap,” Buck says, and he and Eddie jog to the truck, divesting themselves of their turnout gear in favour of shouldering more equipment – saws to get into locked rooms, a Halligan bar to smash windows, rope systems, pulleys.

“How much can you deadlift?” Eddie asks as they extend the ladder out.

“Four-fifty on a normal day,” Buck replies. He’s fastening his helmet beneath his chin, wincing as he accidentally clips his skin in the process. “Why?”

Eddie begins up the ladder, turns back to Buck briefly to shoulder the Halligan bar. “You’re on the pulley system, then.”

Buck grits his teeth, clearly unhappy, but doesn’t say anything – Eddie’s logic makes sense, and even Buck, near-blind with his desire to keep people out of harm’s way, knows that. Eddie’s forty or fifty pounds lighter and more used to combat than any kind of structured weight regime – having Buck on the pulleys, with Eddie’s lighter weight attached, makes more sense every day of the week.

“Just don’t drop me,” Eddie says.

Maybe it’s also Eddie wanting to keep Buck away from breaking glass. The only exposed skin either of them has is their face, but he’s not taking chances. Inside that building, if either of them is seriously injured, they’re beyond help.

They’re at the end of the ladder. Eddie smashes in the glass with the Halligan bar, staring in at the inside of the building – it’s warped like a funhouse, wires out of place and staircases that slope sideways. Even having skipped four floors, it’s going to be a rough climb up.

“Eddie,” Buck says, “Chris will be fine, I promise. He’s as safe as he’s gonna be right now.”

“High rises are supposed to be safe too,” Eddie quips, and Buck’s mouth quirks in agreement as they enter the building.

The whole place groans. Eddie goes first, turns to watch Buck climb through carefully. He really, really does not want Buck to cut himself and start losing copious amounts of blood.

“I really wish I wasn’t on blood thinners right now,” Buck says.

“Great minds, Buckaroo, great minds,” Eddie says distractedly, leaning out over a warped railing and looking up the staircases. “Six flights up. Should be nothing.”

“Structural damage?” Buck asks.

Eddie’s reminded, then, that Buck is by far the more experienced in this field. He forgets, sometimes. He’s so used to Buck the Boyfriend who he’s on a level playing field with that he forgets Buck is almost frighteningly competent when it comes to being in life-threatening situations.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Some of them are shattered. We might have to get fancy with the footwork.”

“Okay.” Buck unspools some of the fortified rope they use as part of their pulley system. “Here’s the plan. We stay tethered, unless there’s an aftershock. If there is, use the quick release – no point in both of us going down.” He starts setting up Eddie’s pulley system, and Eddie lets him, oddly touched by the gesture. He could do it himself, but he doesn’t say anything. “I’ll shoulder the kit and follow you up.”

“Buck-”

“You’re lighter,” Buck says, “you move quicker. I’m heavier and I can carry more. It makes sense, Eddie.”

It does. He hates it but it does.

“When you come to the steps, call out,” Buck says. “We’re gonna have to check every level. If we need to cross a step, I’ll go first, tether myself to something, and then pull you up. If we need speed, or we need someone leaning on something – it’s gonna have to be you.” Buck chews his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie says quickly. He can’t say he relishes the idea of leaning on already-broken infrastructure, but he’d sooner it be him than Buck. “You have to carry everything.”

“It’s fine. I’m part pack horse, haven’t I told you?”

“Multiple times.” They’ve started the stairs – it’s harder going that Eddie anticipated, but he’s with Buck, and that makes it feel a little better. “Especially when you’re carrying Christopher, a giant teddy bear, and seventeen grocery bags.”

“Two trips are for the weak, Eddie.”

The building groans threateningly; the structure moves underfoot, and while Eddie clings to a railing, Buck – who’s just reached the landing of the next flight – is flung into a wall.

“You okay, Buck?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah,” Buck pants, and looks up. “Only five more flights to go.”

~*~

The last five flights of stairs are hellish.

At each floor, they stop, checking for survivors. At each floor, they carefully navigate the tilted space and groaning debris of the building – they grind open doors with equipment slung on Buck’s back, tether themselves to one another and bear each other’s weight as they traverse the hallways.

Eddie’s sweating through his uniform, and while his cardio is good – he never did give up on the army-drilled need to remain ready (what for, he never knew) and the firefighter academy only solidified that. So while his cardio is good – his heartrate started climbing around the tenth floor up, and it hasn’t come down since.

He glances back at Buck. Buck’s fit in an entirely different way to Eddie – hell, Buck’s leg injury and subsequent hardware removal surgery have made it almost impossible for him to do any meaningful cardio, and sure, the guy is built like a brick shithouse, but he’s not as slight as Eddie, and the extra forty pounds has to suck right now.

“Doing okay?” he pants.

“Worry ‘bout yourself, whipper-snapper,” Buck rasps back.

Eddie grins a little. They’re both gassed, sure. But they’re in it together, at least. He’s never really experienced anything like this – the camaraderie of the military, sure. But with his boyfriend by his side? Not so much.

“If we get through this day without overtime,” he pants, hauling himself up a railing and making sure the tether to Buck isn’t tugging, “I’ll cook you dinner.”

“Fuck, if you want me to die, Eddie, just say so-”

They’ve reached the top floor, and Buck joins him on the landing, brings out the saw when he sees how warped the lock is. Eddie leans on the wall, trying to steady his breathing. He doesn’t even know how long they’ve been at it.

“Why,” he pants, “would anyone want to live in a high-rise?”

“High-rise buildings are supposed to be some of the safest places around,” Buck replies, licking his lips. His face is pouring sweat. “They have to be. Some guy named Eric Garcetti pushed for massive reform around fortification laws in California and Los Angeles. Even before him, there were legislative powers being introduced to prevent buildings from being built on fault lines.”

“How do you know this?” Eddie demands. “Why do you know this? And why, if skyscrapers aren’t supposed to be built on fault lines, do I feel like I’m in a funhouse at the circus?”

“Guess someone got fancy with the math,” Buck sighs, still working the door.

“You know, it’s cute when you do it while you’re cooking. When it’s a eleven-story building with thousands of people in it, not so much.”

The lock on the door finally gives, and it swings outwards. Buck shoulders the equipment and peers into the hallway. The lean up here is the most severe they’ve seen so far – closer to the top, the more precarious the structure.

“Me first,” Eddie says.

“Teacher’s pet.”

“Says the guy who knows about all the legislative reforms of building structure and earthquakes.”

Buck double-checks the tether on Eddie’s harness, then his own. “Ready? On three. One, two-”

He lets Eddie’s arm go, and Eddie staggers across the tilted hallway, slamming into the wall none to gracefully in the aftermath. “Hello!” he yells, voice booming into the hallway. “Hello, LAFD!”

There’s a crash behind him as Buck careens into the wall with him, panting. Eddie winces when he sees that Buck’s landed on his bad side.

“Buck-”

“Job, Eddie,” Buck says tersely.

He’s not used to not putting Buck first, but he has to, right now. “Hello!” he calls again. “Is anyone here? LAFD-”

“In here!”

Two voices – one female, one male. Buck uses the grinder on the lock, the door swings inwards, and they’re in.

“Hello, LAFD,” Eddie says.

“Oh, thank God,” a male voice says, overriding the female voice. “I was thinking nobody was going to show up. About time!”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “We got here as fast as we could, sir.”

“Mom, are they firefighters?”

Eddie and Buck look at each other with twin expressions of horror. A kid. There’s a fucking kid up here. As if this whole situation couldn’t get any goddamn worse – they’ve got two firefighters for three people. This is a no-one wins scenario, one they go through in the academy.

“Obviously they’re firefighters!” the male voice yells. “Just come over here and get me out!”

“You’re good,” Buck says, giving his harness a tug to signal he can move. “Go. I’ll get the kid.”

They leap-frog to their positions, with Buck making it to a counter before Eddie goes down on his belly and slides his way to where the man is pinned against the window by a couch. Eddie’s gut lurches at the sight, and he almost wishes Buck had taken this one, even though he knows he needs Buck’s heavier weight if anything goes wrong.

“Hi, sweetie,” he hears Buck say kindly. “What’s your name?”

A sniffle. “Maddie.”

“Really? My sister’s name is Maddie!” Eddie can hear Buck fidgeting with a rope. “My name’s Buck. Is this your mom?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, miss. We’ll get you out of here.”

Maddie’s mom is just replying when the man yells, “Why aren’t both of you down here helping me?”

“There are multiple people who need help, sir,” Eddie grinds out. “Just don’t move.”

“Can I suggest that this is a situation in which women and children first doesn’t apply?”

“Are you serious, man?” Buck calls.

The building groans, and the floor shudders, and it’s Buck who calls, “Aftershock!” as the entire place begins to shake and rattle and – fuck, they’re tilting again, more severely towards the ground, and the glass cracks beneath the weight of the man and the couch pinned to it.

“Don’t move!” Eddie yells. “Sir, don’t-”

With a wail of fear, the man begins to lever himself up – and the glass breaks, sending him and the couch careening out it.

“Eddie!” Buck yells. “The mom-”

Eddie hears the scream, sees the woman tumble past him, and lets go of his handhold, releasing all his weight to Buck and the harness. For a terrifying second, he’s freefalling – and then he catches her by the arm and the rope pulls taut at his waist, twangs so hard he knows he’ll have cuts on his hips from the sudden stop later.

The mom is dangling out the window and the little girl is screaming bloody murder and Eddie can see the body of the man on the pavement below.

“I got you,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

His feet scrabble. If he can get purchase, even with just his toes, he can lean back enough and pull her over the ledge. Even as he goes about doing it, it’s with the knowledge that Buck is not only supporting his weight, but the woman’s as well – it has to be agony for him, and every movement Eddie makes will destabilise him a little.

“Okay, easy,” he breathes. “Easy.”

He manages to find a hold with his shoes and begins to pull. Buck – who must be watching – applies even more pressure on his end, pulling on the rope and audibly grunting with the effort.

It only takes another split second to have the woman back inside the window with their combined efforts. Working quickly, Eddie secures her to his harness and gives his line to Buck a tug – and Buck begins reeling them in.

“That sucked,” she breathes.

“Agreed,” Eddie says. “Buck, you good?”

“Yep.” Buck’s reply is short and strained. “You gotta lay off the donuts, Eds.”

~*~

Maddie’s mom’s name is Katy, as they find out once they get into the hallway.

“We gotta get out of this building,” Buck says. “One set of aftershocks that close after the initial earthquake – we stay, we’re screwed.”

“This hotel sucks,” Maddie says.

“Smart kid,” Eddie says to Katy. “Stairwell, let’s go.”

If going up was difficult, going down with two extra people plus all their equipment is even worse. Eddie’s fucking exhausted, and he knows that Buck isn’t a lot better off – in fact, judging by the lines around his mouth, his leg has started to hurt him.

Their radios crackle. “Captain Nash,” comes Bobby’s voice. “Members of the 118, sound off.”

Eddie clicks the radio. “Diaz and Buckley, eighth floor stairs,” he says. “Two survivors.”

Chimney sounds off as well, and Wharton. There’s silence for a moment.

“Henrietta Wilson,” Bobby says. “Sound off.”

Silence. Eddie meets Buck’s eyes over Katy and Maddie, sees Buck swallow convulsively.

“Hen,” Bobby says firmly. “Sound off, now.”

Nothing. Eddie swallows, grits his jaw, and says, “We have to keep moving.”

Maddie tugs his hand. “Is she your friend?” she asks sadly.

“Yeah, honey,” Buck murmurs. “She is.”

~*~

Somehow, they make it to the ground floor without incident, seeing their charges off at the med tent. Buck’s limping, and Eddie’s hips are screaming in pain with the snapback from the harness and rope.

“We gotta go back in,” Buck says. “Hen.”

It’s not a question for Eddie either. They grab their kit and head straight back for the building the moment they hear Bobby requesting assistance. Eddie – still hearing the sound of the man hitting the pavement – feels like he can’t take another loss today. Especially not one of their own.

He can’t have another Greggs.

They end up pulling the rubble aside with a truck, and underneath it all is Hen – alive, unhurt, and holding a small child and dog, of all things. She bumps her head into Buck’s chest and hugs Eddie with one arm when she’s freed, and they all get a brief ten minutes of exaltation until they have to go back for the body of the firefighter who fell with Hen.

Eddie can’t even remember which firehouse he’s from.

The guy gets a hero’s walk-out, salutes and everything, and then it’s just – cleanup. Buck stops by the civilian tent to make sure that Maddie and her mom are okay, and Eddie tries to scrounge up some sort of a quick snack.

They’ve worked their sixteen-hour shift and then some. It’s night. Eddie barely knows what time. He sits, and the moment he does, the fight is over. He can’t make himself get up.

Eddie’s sitting on a cot, leaning on a post with his eyes closed, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

He blinks his eyes open just in time to see Buck sitting down next to him. His uniform is rumpled, shirt untucked, and there’s white dust all over him. There’s bruising on the side of his face – he looks exhausted, and Eddie’s sure he doesn’t look a lot better.

He shifts away from the pole, leans his head on Buck’s shoulder, and puts a hand on his thigh, takes a deep breath – Buck smells vaguely of his cologne, even now, even beneath the smell of rubble and plaster and sweat.

“Hi,” Buck says tiredly, leaning his head on Eddie’s.

“Hey.” Eddie digs his fingers in, weakly, feels Buck’s quad bunch underneath them. “You doing okay?”

“Tired,” Buck mumbles. “You?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nestles closer – he doesn’t care who sees them. The adrenaline has worn off, and now he’s shaking and desperate to be close to another human being. Specifically, this one, his human being – Buck, with his warm body and big hands and even bigger heart. “You saved my life back there.”

“When?”

“When the rope gave, and that woman was hanging out of the window. You caught us.” And they weren’t light, either, Eddie knows that. “You pulled us up. Saved us.”

Buck shrugs limply. “You’ve saved me tons of times.”

Eddie’s throat tightens. He straightens up a little – even as Buck protests – and takes a moment to look at him. His eyes look even bigger in his face from all the dust, and his hair is rebelling against the gel he uses to try and tame it.

“I love you,” Eddie says.

“I love you too.” Buck kisses him, then sighs, puts his arm around Eddie and drags him in close. “Twenty-minute nap. It’ll freshen us up enough to go back to the station, shower, and get Chris.”

“Mm,” Eddie says, and he’s out.

~*~

Buck wakes him up an hour later, when they’re ready to move.

Eddie slept. He takes one look at Buck and can tell Buck didn’t. The sad expression he gets is enough to stop him from asking – Buck closes his eyes on the drive back, falls asleep with his head on Eddie’s shoulder and Hen gently patting his knee.

The showers go by in a blur. They stumble out, and Buck seems more awake than he was before – Eddie is tired again, and Buck drives them to Chris’s school.

Nothing compares to the feeling he gets when he picks Chris up and swings him around and sees that his kid is okay, that he’s safe, beaming in delight at seeing Eddie and crowing that his dad is a hero. Then he sees Buck – who’s parked the car and is limping into the building behind him – and he squeals with joy.

“Mr. Cusack!” he yells to his supervising teacher. “My dads are heroes!”

With that, he stretches one arm out and flings it around Buck’s neck, dragging them in until they’re a horribly contorted cuddle-pile, and Eddie’s never been so tired or so happy in his entire life.

Both of his boys are fine. They’re going home.

~*~

Buck drives them back, and by the time they stumble inside, it’s almost time for bed.

Navigating the ruined streets took some work. Chris had been quiet upon seeing the disaster outside, and Eddie – worried about his sensitive kid and what he might start to think – elects to sit in the back with him.

He carries Chris indoors. Buck sorts out Chris’s meds for his CP – something he’s got an uncanny knack for, considering how many medications he was on himself at one point – and then joins them for story time. He’s quiet, and Eddie knows his leg must be hurting.

Chris nods off with a quiet, “Love you,” to the both of them, Chompy and Dragon tucked under one arm. It’s only once they’re sure he’s asleep that they stand and leave the room – with the door slightly ajar, as always.

There’s clumsy teeth-brushing. Buck is downright listing with how tired he is, and Eddie’s not a lot better off. He hustles them both into the bedroom, and for a moment, they stand there, blinking.

Concrete meows loudly from the foot of the bed, and Buck groans, slapping a hand over his eyes. “I forgot to feed him,” he says. “Shit.”

“I’ll do it.” Because Buck really does look like he’s on the cusp of passing out. “Stay there, okay?”

“Okay,” Buck sighs, beginning to toe his shoes off.

Eddie finds food, pours it out, and makes sure there’s fresh water. For his efforts, Concrete doesn’t biff him around the hand when he’s measuring out the food – he even purrs, a little, rubs his goofy little face into Eddie’s hand and wobbles on his three legs.

“Stupid cat,” Eddie says fondly.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Buck’s managed to get his shoes off, and his jeans are undone. He’s lying back on the bed, blinking wearily at the ceiling.

“Today sucked,” he says.

“Sure did.” Eddie grabs his hand and levers him up. “C’mon. Undressed.”

“I don’t wanna fuck,” Buck whines, but it’s playful.

“I’d be concerned if you did.”

They undress each other slowly, taking stock of each other’s wounds. Livid bruising on Buck’s side from impacting the wall – worse than it looks, probably, with blood thinners. No cuts anywhere. He hisses in agony when Eddie goes to check his hip and leg, and Eddie knows more than thinks that tomorrow is going to be a shit day for Buck’s mobility.

As for Eddie – he’s got a few cuts on his forearms, scrabbling in the glass to try and save Katy from falling. There’s a livid welt around his hips, as suspected, from the jarring of the harness. Even with gloves on, he’s sustained rope burns from the effort of pulling her up.

“We match,” Buck says.

“No offence, but I’d rather we didn’t.” Eddie guides Buck into bed, then falls in beside him with a groan. “What a day.”

“Mm,” Buck mumbles, reaching for an ice pack he’d brought in from the kitchen. When he fumbles it, Eddie takes it from him and ices his hip, listening to the chest-deep groan of relief it elicits. For a moment, they’re both still and quiet.

Eddie smooths a hand up Buck’s side, lifting it when he sees Buck wince with the movement. “You okay?” he asks, exhaustedly.

“Just bruised.” Buck blinks his eyes open with what looks like a huge amount of effort. “You?” His own hands are fluttering near Eddie’s shoulders, where he’s sure there’s a nasty bruise from the impact of some of the rubble. All things considered, they got off easy.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles wearily, and Buck’s hands settle on him. “I’m okay.”

Buck turns his face into the pillow, tucks his hands underneath it. Eddie misses the contact almost instantly, and shuffles closer so they can press together, side by side, even though it’s a warm night.

“Worst day ever,” Buck’s voice comes, muffled, from the pillow.

“We’re alive,” Eddie says, and Buck sighs, eases over onto his side and allows Eddie to spoon up behind him. His bruising looks worse than Eddie’s – a relic of the blood thinners – but he doesn’t really seem to be in pain, not with the ice pack on his hip. “Let’s get some rest.”

“Finally,” Buck mumbles, clutching possessively at Eddie’s arm over his waist. “G’night.”

“Night, Buck.”

~*~

He’s woken sometime in the early hours of the morning to padding footsteps in the hallway.

He rolls. Buck’s gone from the bed, and Eddie’s just sitting up – worried, even through the fog of exhaustion, that Buck’s somehow more injured than anyone had picked up on and is pacing so he doesn’t wake Eddie – when Buck’s silhouette appears in the doorway.

He smiles sleepily at Eddie. Chris is in his arms, his legs settled on either side of Buck’s hips and his arms clinging to Buck’s shoulders.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“I had a nightmare,” Chris sniffles. “Bucky says I can sleep with you.”

Buck offers him a slightly guilty, but winning smile.

“Well,” Eddie says, as Chris is deposited in the bedsheets with him, “I guess if Buck says so, it’s okay.”

Chris is wedged between them, now, his back to Buck’s chest and Buck’s arm thrown over his waist – and Eddie’s. His fingers flex against Eddie’s side, almost like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, grip strong and sure and so, so gentle.

Eddie looks at the clock. Three in the morning. He feels like he hasn’t slept at all, and somehow like he’s slept for twelve hours straight without dreaming.

“Our alarm is gonna go off in three hours,” he says.

Buck turns his face into the pillow, groaning unhappily. “Don’t say that.”

“It is.”

“Wait.” Buck turns his head again, blinks. “No. Critical incident leave. We won’t be working tomorrow. They won’t let us until we’ve done the mandatory psych session.”

“Oh thank God,” Eddie breathes, and turns the alarm on his phone off. “Let’s get some sleep, then.”

“’S’what I’m trying to do, but you Diaz boys keep waking me up…”


	28. Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all totally thought i was dead didn't you?
> 
> i had to force myself to write this chapter and it's probably shit so i'm sorry for that but god help me i am NOT giving up on this fic until it is FINISHED. hopefully the new season will inspire me or whatever
> 
> **EDITED TO ADD: this chapter includes a trigger warning for racist terminology towards the end (last 1000 ish words). please read with caution and don't continue to read if these things will upset and/or trigger you!**
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com. message me any time i don't bite!

When he wakes, it’s to Buck settling back into bed with him.

“Hnn?” Eddie asks, listening as Buck huffs quietly with laughter. “Where’s Chris?”

“Out the door. Abuela’s taking him to school.” Buck kisses the back of his neck as he settles in behind Eddie with a sigh. “You were asleep.”

Eddie cracks his eyes open blearily, taking in the alarm clock and the sunlight pouring in through the window. It’s already almost too warm in the bedroom, especially with the duvet and Buck’s bulk pressed up along behind him.

Of which a certain part is poking him in the hip.

He groans, rolls over, and is totally unsurprised when Buck smiles cheekily, hopefully, and rests his chin on Eddie’s chest. “Seriously?” he asks.

“We could totally have thank-God-we’re-alive sex,” Buck suggests, grinning wider.

“I’d be down if it weren’t for the wet patch in between us. Jesus, did Chris…?” His kid stopped bedwetting a long time ago, but maybe the excitement and how hard they were sleeping and being wedged between them-

“Ah, no.” Buck fishes under the covers, produces a limp, sad-looking blue pack. “My ice pack melted. Sorry.”

Eddie tosses it aside, pushes his fingers through Buck’s hair, and tries to ignore the bruising that’s marring his sides. He always has to remind himself that it looks worse than it is – that Buck’s tendency to bruise like he’s actively being beaten every day is a result of blood thinners and not genuine injury.

“You caught me and that woman yesterday,” he says, looking into Buck’s eyes. “Like we weighed nothing. If it’d been Chim or Hen or even Bobby… we probably would’ve fallen.”

Buck’s quiet for a moment. Then he leans up, gives Eddie a soft kiss, and plants his forearms on the pillow, either side of Eddie’s head. Looks down at him fondly, almost a little sadly.

“I’ll always catch you,” he says.

Jesus, what did Eddie do in a past life to deserve Buck? Especially after everything that happened before they managed to sort their shit out? Well – before he managed to, specifically. Buck’s never let him down. Not once.

“Come here,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck smiles as he’s folded into a kiss.

~*~

Eddie was right about one thing – Buck’s mobility is terrible the next day.

He’s obviously in pain, and Eddie’s grateful for two things – one, that Chris has school, and two, that they’re not working today – a directive from both Bobby and the guy in charge of him. Critical incident leave, Bobby had said, don’t bother coming in.

Which is good. Because Buck can’t even move from bed without Eddie giving him a massage, and Eddie has to grit his teeth to stop himself mentioning the tears of pain in Buck’s eyes. It’s not even a question as to whether or not Buck will take his pain meds – he swallows them dry when Eddie brings them to him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, sounding embarrassed, as Eddie gets back into bed with him. “I’ll be fine to move soon. You don’t have to-”

Eddie shushes him with a kiss, frustrated by his sheer lack of ability to help any more than he has and that Buck feels embarrassed about being in pain.

“I’m sore too,” he says instead. “I don’t really want to get up.”

“Need to eat sometime.” Buck rolls onto his back, wincing. “C’mon. Staying in bed is just gonna make me stiffer than I already am.”

“In all the wrong places, too,” Eddie jokes weakly, and Buck laughs – it sounds genuine.

“Come on,” he urges, and staggers upright. “Between the two of us we’re a functional human. We can do this.”

Eddie allows himself to be coaxed out of bed. “You can order me around from the couch,” he says. “I promise not to burn the pancakes.”

“You always promise and you always break it. Step aside, wannabe Gordon Ramsey. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

~*~

Life with Buck sinks into a routine.

He’s thoroughly surprised by Buck’s willingness to shoulder half of the work it takes to raise Christopher. Even his therapist was dubious about Buck’s ability to adjust to full-time parenting, given that Buck’s never had children, never really been around children, and is only twenty seven.

But Buck seems to love it. Packs lunches, does school drop offs and pick ups, organises playdates, manages medications and changes sheets. He also gets far too competitive in the monthly school bake sale, which makes both Chris and Eddie laugh – to see all two hundred pounds of golden blonde firefighter spending his Friday nights furiously icing cupcakes and talking about putting middle aged white women in their place isn’t something Eddie thought would be a regular occurrence.

He wakes up on a Sunday morning, two months after the earthquake, to the sounds of children’s TV drifting through the house. Buck’s side of the bed is empty, and when Eddie goes to look, Chris’s bed is as well.

“Guys?” he calls sleepily.

“Dad!”

He sticks his head into the living room, smiling when he sees Chris colouring in at the coffee table. “Mornin’, superman. Where’s Buck?”

“He’s outside,” Chris says, tongue between his teeth – an expression of concentration he picked up from Buck. “He said he was gonna fix the heater.”

“The heat – oh, God.”

Eddie steps outside, barefoot, and spies Buck – crouched at the base of Eddie’s ancient old water heater, which has been playing up for months.

“What’re you up to?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck turns, smiling. He’s not wearing a shirt, and the shorts he’s wearing a riding low on his hips. It’s indecent, especially at this time of morning.

“I’m fixing the water heater.”

“You are?” Eddie steps close, puts his arms around Buck’s waist and leans on him. “Didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

“I watched a few YouTube videos, read a book, and got started,” Buck says cheerfully. “I’m almost done. It shouldn’t be as finicky after this – like, we should be able to get more than five minutes of hot water at a time.”

Eddie turns him around and kisses him. “You’re so smart,” he says fondly, just to watch Buck blush and beam. “You are. You learned to fix a water heater just off YouTube and a book?”

“I would’ve done it sooner if I knew it was broken,” Buck says.

“Of course you would, fuck.” Eddie smiles. “Let me try to make you breakfast to thank you?”

Buck scrunches his nose up comically, tilts one shoulder. “Ah, I don’t know about that.”

“Asshole,” Eddie laughs fondly. “I’m getting better at pancakes.”

“I won’t say no to pancakes.” Buck leans over to kiss him. “But if I smell burning…”

“Right, right, okay, you’ve made your point,” Eddie says, grinning. “Pancakes, coming right up.”

~*~

The twenty-four hour shifts are good for money, but not good for his sanity or his work-life balance.

His only saving grace, now, is that if he chooses to take them – and he does, as often as the department allows – he knows that Buck is on call to look after Christopher.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust abuela and pepa. He does. It’s just that they’re both getting older, and Chris is getting bigger, and he knows that if something were to happen, they might not be able to help Chris. It’s a relief to leave Chris with Buck. He has no doubt that Buck would do whatever he has to do to keep Chris safe.

He staggers inside after a gruelling, sweaty, hot shift – he showered twice, and still feels like he’s not clean – and sees that Buck has brought the mail in. There’s a stack on the counter, and Eddie sighs unhappily, knowing that at this time of year, it’s likely to be school bills and other annual fees for Christopher.

No point in putting it off. He drags out the ragged notebook he uses to track finances, sits down, and begins peeling the letters open.

That’s how Buck finds him, slumped backwards in his chair and his hair a mess from running his fingers through it.

“Bad shift?” Buck leans down to kiss him, then heads to the kitchen.

“Hot,” he says absently. “No, just…”

He waves a thick envelope from Chris’s school. Buck winces.

“Right.”

“I swear, they find new and more creative ways to get money out of me every term.” He throws the letter down. “I’m making better money than I was at the mechanic, but it’s still not enough. Starting to think it never will be.”

Buck pads over with two mugs of coffee, puts one down in front of Eddie. “You know I’ll help, Eddie,” he says quietly.

Eddie hesitates. He does know, that’s the thing. And he’s thought about it. He lets Buck buy groceries and pay half the electricity and water bills, because he can’t argue with those. And every now and then, he lets Buck pay for Chris’s physiotherapy.

But this? He’s thought about it – thought about the implication of letting Buck pay for childcare, for schooling, for medications. It would help, immensely, seeing as he doesn’t get any financial support from Shannon, but… he almost feels like it would make Buck a second parent. That it isn’t fair to expect Buck to pay for this stuff.

“Eddie?” Buck asks quietly.

“I know.” He rubs his face. “I know you would. That’s not fair on you, though.”

Buck blinks. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, yeah. Aren’t you? I mean, you’ve got tons of things you could do with your money-”

“Like what, buy a third cat tree?” Buck takes a drag of his coffee. “I wanna help if I can, Eddie. If you’re worried about, I don’t know, that making me more of a legal guardian, or whatever…”

“I’m not,” Eddie realises aloud. God, they’re stupid. Eddie thought it wouldn’t be fair to put the pressure on Buck, and Buck thought Eddie didn’t want Buck involved in Chris’s life in a serious or financial capacity. “Just… I don’t know. I want to say he’s not your kid-”

He sees the flinch and lunges to grab Buck’s hand before he can move. “But,” he says pointedly, “he is your kid, in every way that matters. I want to say you’re not responsible for him, but you already kind of are.”

Buck smiles. “So let me help,” he says. “Please?”

“Dios, you know I’m helpless when you beg…”

~*~

They both heal up from their adventure in the skyscraper, but they’re putting out fires and rescuing people all over for the next week to come.

Eddie heals up quick. Buck takes longer – he insists the bruises don’t hurt and he’s not limping any, but when they aren’t gone after a week, Eddie forces him to the doctor. The good news: they’re going to review Buck’s blood thinners. The bad news: that might lead to him having another pulmonary embolism.

“I can’t stay on them forever,” Buck reasons.

“You can if they’re gonna stop you choking on your own blood,” Eddie snaps, pacing restlessly.

Buck doesn’t fire up – but then, when has he ever? He just tilts his head and says, “Eddie, there’s nothing medically wrong with me anymore. You know that, right?”

He does know that. Not only has he gone to all of Buck’s post-operative appointments with him, but he’s reviewed the files and medications and knows that the team of doctors looking after Buck are some of the best around. Physically, Buck is healthier than he’s ever been and the only thing outstanding are the blood thinners.

“I know that,” he sighs, slumping dejectedly against the counter. “I just hate seeing you all bruised up, Buck. Hate the thought of you going off the pills and having it happen again even more.”

“There’s no reason to believe it’ll happen again,” Buck says gently. “They think the pins in my leg caused it. Those are gone.”

“And if they’re wrong?”

“Eddie. They’ve been reviewing this for over a year now. They took me off them to have my surgery, and I was fine.”

“You went through _withdrawal_ , Buck!”

“Which was being monitored by the docs.” Okay, now Buck sounds impatient. “Eddie, I’ve spent the better part of a year and a half being in pain and sick and trying to get rehabbed enough to be a functional human again. I’m finally there, and you want me to stay on them?”

Eddie deflates, remembering how worried he was about Buck potentially cutting himself on smashed glass or ripping himself open with a steel beam in the skyscraper. Then, he’d wished for Buck to be off the blood thinners. Now, he wants the poor guy to stay on them. At the end of the day, it’s not about the blood thinners – it’s about Buck being safe, and Eddie constantly measuring and re-defining what “safe” is, and how to reach it.

“I just want you to be okay,” he stresses, and Buck’s expression softens a little, the belligerence leaving it almost entirely. “I just – I can’t figure out whether you’d be more okay on blood thinners without embolisms or more okay off blood thinners and not running the risk of bleeding to death on a job.”

“Eddie…” Buck shakes his head, steps close, draws him into a hug. “You can’t predict that. You’ll drive yourself crazy trying.”

Eddie nods into Buck’s shoulder, but he pulls back after a moment, looks him in the eyes. “What’s the plan, then?”

“They’re gonna take me off the ones I’m on now, try a new kind. One that might make me bruise less.”

He doesn’t like it. But Buck – Buck’s too young to live on blood thinning medication for the rest of his life. If he can get off it, if he really doesn’t need it…

“Alright,” he says reluctantly. “But if you so much as breathe funny I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

Buck shrugs and smiles and doesn’t argue with him. Eddie knows he’s happy about the prospect of being off the meds – and honestly, why shouldn’t he be? Getting off the meds means he doesn’t run the risk of bleeding to death from a cut on a job.

Eddie just can’t shake it. He wasn’t there for the embolism, obviously, but he can only imagine how fucking scary it would have been to see an otherwise healthy twenty-six year old collapse and cough up blood. People have died from a lot less.

“You’re overthinking again,” Buck says.

“Sorry,” Eddie winces. “Um, there’s something wrong with the pancake batter.”

Buck leans over and looks at the mess in the mixing bowl. “Did you put milk in it?”

“Yes,” Eddie says indignantly.

“How much?”

“Half a cup?”

“It needs a cup and three quarters,” Buck laughs. “That’s okay. Easy fix.”

“I was reading the recipe!”

“Sure, sure. Step aside and let me show you how it’s done, old man.”

~*~

Buck is asleep.

Eddie watches him from the next bunk over. The sleeping rooms are dark and quiet, and Buck was out the minute his head hit the pillow. Eddie’s envious of his ability to just – switch off, sleep.

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually,” Buck had assured him, right before they climbed into their respective bunks seven hours into the shift. “It took me a few months too.”

Hen chalks it up to Eddie never having done shift work before. But he knows that’s not it – that his lack of real shift work isn’t the reason he can’t acclimatise to the hours.

He never really switched off in Afghanistan. He was always on – it was his job to always be on. Even when he was asleep he was half awake, one eye always open, hearing always straining to catch the sound of sand shifting, of tyres, of impending death. He was never off duty, and it hasn’t changed being back here – trying to sleep in the sleeping rooms feels the same way trying to sleep in the dunes did.

He knows Buck isn’t sleeping deeply, not the way he does at home. It’s the same careful, still sleeping he used to see at the start of their fake relationship – when Buck still wasn’t sure of him. It’s not super restful sleep, at any rate. He can’t believe he used to watch Buck rest like that and think he was comfortable.

He doesn’t need to worry about sleeping. The alarm blares at around seven in the morning – the sun has crawled lazily over the horizon, and Buck leaps out of bed excitedly even as Eddie grudgingly wonders what the fuck people are doing to get themselves into trouble at seven.

“Let’s go!” Buck calls, grinning. “Callout!”

Eddie just follows, shaking his head fondly. The golden retriever routine never gets old.

~*~

People are stupid.

He feels bad for thinking it, but really – most people are incredibly stupid, or at least lacking in foresight. Today’s example – the Youtube wannabes who thought it would be funny to encase their friend’s head inside a cinderblock.

They end up having to dive into the pool (because of course they do – out of everyone present, they’re the two biggest and strongest, and it takes everything they have to lift the kid and the cinderblock to the surface) and try and get the kid to safety. The call takes them into overtime – that happens occasionally – and Eddie sort of can’t believe that this is also part of his job.

He swipes the hair back from his eyes just in time to see Buck bringing a sledgehammer down on the cinderblock, shirt soaked and straining against his arms. And they do free the kid – all’s well that ends well – and even get to see Bobby throw the camera into the pool.

“That was the dumbest callout I’ve ever been to,” Hen scoffs on the way back in. “I mean seriously.”

“Nah,” Buck replies, shaking his head like a wet dog and spraying Eddie with water. “There was that guy who got trapped in his house by a bunch of roosters, remember?”

“I’d forgotten about that one. Lord, they’re just overgrown pigeons.”

“You know,” Buck says, accepting the towel Eddie offers him, “some scientists think that fearing birds is actually an evolutionary thing, seeing as they descended directly from the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs used to have feathers, too.”

“They did not,” Chimney says indignantly.

“He’s right,” Eddie sighs. “They changed the science about two years back. Chris is super excited at the idea of fanged, clawed dinosaurs covered in feathers.”

“Why would they change the science?” Chim despairs.

“They just learned better,” Buck says. “I guess. Math, though. That’s where I draw the line. You guys should see some of Chris’s homework. They’re giving him algebra already.”

“What’s that again?” Chim asks.

“That’s – that’s like, x equals y or something like that. Why they had to introduce letters to math I’ll never understand.”

“The letters represent and unknown, baby,” Hen says fondly, and Buck mimes snoring as she does. “Well, at least you’re pretty.”

“Hey!” Buck squawks. “I can cook really well!”

“He can,” Eddie backs him. “Besides. When was the last time anyone here needed to use algebra?”

“Point,” Hen admits.

They shower quickly – just to get the smell of chlorine off their skin and out of their hair – and then redress. They took Buck’s car today, and Eddie only has to wait a little while for him to bound out of the 118 – no doubt having stopped to say a cheerful hello to every person inside.

“You know,” Eddie says, “if the sheer stupidity of some fame-hungry morons hadn’t made me want to leave the guy in the cinderblock, the sight of you dripping wet in uniform and swinging a sledgehammer really would’ve done it for me.”

Buck downright giggles, probably exhausted from the shift. “Oh yeah?” he says. “That’s easy enough for me to recreate at home. I didn’t know you were bored with our sex life.”

“I’ve always liked you in uniform,” Eddie grins.

Buck rolls his eyes playfully. “Objectification. That’s what you’re doing to me.”

Eddie almost grabs him in a bearhug, but they’re still at work. It can wait until they’re home, he figures. Or, at the very least – until they’re in the car.

~*~

Buck’s father has an unerring habit of calling just when they’re least expecting it.

Eddie could spend the rest of his life with Buck and know that his father will be a black cloud on their existence until he dies, and maybe even after that. Buck tries to protect him from it – when the phone rings at three in the afternoon, he takes one look at the screen and leaves to answer it.

Eddie waits. There’s nothing else to do, and he’s not willing to invade Buck’s privacy to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Who was that?" he asks when Buck re-enters the room – as if he didn’t know. Still, maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe it’s nothing to do with Paul.

Buck rubs his face. "My dad," he says quietly.

"Again?" Eddie sits up straighter. "I kind of figured he'd leave you alone when you told him you weren't interested in seeing him anymore-"

"Join the club, we've got jackets," Buck sighs. "He's never really taken no for an answer. I knew he wasn't gonna leave it after last time, I just didn't know how long it would take for him to push it."

"What does he want?" Eddie asks. "Money?"

"Just to be involved," Buck mutters. "He's so used to having control over us he never really gave up after we both left. There's a reason he's on an information diet and doesn't know anything about us really. I think he thinks if he just shows up enough times, we'll cave."

"He doesn't know where you live now, though," Eddie says. "So he can't just show up."

Buck brightens a little. "Oh yeah."

"I mean, unless you-"

"No," Buck says quickly. "No, I - I might put myself through that, Eddie, but I'd never do it to you or Chris."

"Why should you have to go through it?" Eddie asks, a little troubled.

Buck hand-waves him, a pained expression on his face. "You're asking me about things I don't want to deal with yet," he complains, and Eddie smiles a little - it's an acknowledgment at the very least, and an offhand way of saying he doesn't want to talk about it. Eddie can accept that.

"He's been calling more often," Eddie notes instead.

Buck shrugs. "Yeah. I mean, he's not getting what he wants. So he calls more."

"You think he'll give up if you wait him out?"

"I don't know," Buck admits. "I've never really tried waiting him out this long. I always cave. Maddie's better at it than I am."

Eddie straightens up a little, but continues chopping tomatoes, knowing that the more relaxed he is, the more chance Buck has of opening up. “Does Maddie know he’s annoying you?” he asks.

A long silence.

Eddie sighs. “Buck…”

“I don’t want her to worry,” Buck groans. “She went through so much with Doug, and then I nearly got murdered by Matt, and the last time Dad did show up I turned into a zombie for a few days and went AWOL on you guys. She’s done enough worrying. All he’s doing is calling.”

For now, Eddie wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Part of his therapy is recognising that Buck’s not a kid and doesn’t need to be mothered and coddled the way Chris does – that he can make his own choices and that even if they’re occasionally bad for him, Eddie has to let him.

Eddie’s not exactly used to being in the position of not making the decisions. Where Buck’s father is concerned, he’d cut the man out entirely – but if Buck wants some sort of a pseudo-relationship, then… who’s he to stop it?

“I’m gonna call her,” Buck says. “Warn her he’s around.”

Eddie might have been able to find someone with a less complicated relationship with their father, but then he wouldn’t have found Buck, probably, who is by far the best person Eddie’s ever known. He watches Buck leave the room to make the call, sighing.

“Why does Bucky look sad?” Chris asks.

Eddie didn’t even realise Chris had entered the room, or stopped paying attention to Animal Crossing.

“He’s okay,” Eddie reassures, pulling Chris closer. “He’s gotta make a phone call he doesn’t want to make. That’s all.”

“Is it for a doctor’s appointment?” Chris asks.

Eddie laughs, a little bemused. “No?”

“He’s always sad about the doctor.”

Chris is right, to a point. Those miserable few weeks of Buck recovering from his hardware removal surgery are impressed on both their minds – the worst of it wasn’t necessarily the crutches, it was more than Buck was so obviously and completely despondent with his movement so impeded. He did try to stay positive – for Chris, Eddie is assuming – but after being in pain for so long, there’s only so much you can do.

Buck slides into the room again when Chris has gone back to the TV, and Eddie is restlessly browsing secondhand stores for a new bookcase. It’s less about needing a bookcase for Chris and more about needing something to do with his hands – to stop himself going to annoy Buck – and he’s no more absorbed in it when Buck returns than he was when he left.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

“Good.” Buck shrugs. “She wants to know if we wanna go round for dinner tomorrow night. I think we’re both rostered off.”

“We are.” Eddie frowns; Buck’s usually more than happy to spend time with his sister. “What’s up?”

“She’s going to be worrying,” Buck groans, slumping down on the table. “Pretty sure she invited us around so she can make sure I’m not going all sad clown again.”

Eddie chews his lip, brow furrowed. He doesn’t know what to make of Buck referring to himself as a sad clown – it’s obvious, to Eddie at least, that any and all reservations and reactions Buck has concerning his father are the result of abuse. He’s never entirely sure whether Buck is being self-deprecating, or whether he really believes that he’s just being a “sad clown” and overreacting.

He reaches across to grab Buck’s hand, unsurprised when Buck laces their fingers together and looks up at him, a little sparkle beginning in his eyes.

“She loves you,” Eddie says quietly. “She just wants to make sure you’re alright.”

“I know.” Buck rubs his face with his other hand, doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I better make something to take over.”

“I’ll help,” Eddie offers.

Buck scrunches his nose up playfully, the way Eddie knew he would. “Uh,” he says, “I’m gonna grab Chris.”

“Straight through the heart, Buck,” Eddie says, miming a stabbing motion at his chest. “Straight through the heart.”

Buck stands, but leans down to kiss him – deep, but soft. A promise for more to come later. He leaves Eddie breathless – and, judging by the expression on his face, he knows it.

“You’ll live,” he says.

Eddie sits speechless at the table as Buck leaves, then returns, carrying a shrieking Christopher aeroplane style. Buck will be the death of him, one day, but Eddie can’t even bring himself to be angry about it.

Really, he thinks as he watches Buck put Chris on the counter, then tie a kid-sized apron around his neck, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

~*~

Dinner at Maddie’s is always good, because if she can’t work out how to cook the thing she’s attempting to cook, she just orders in. Or enlists Buck.

When they get there, Eddie offers up a bottle of wine, which gets a predictable, “Thank you, Eddie! I’m so glad someone remembered their manners!” And Buck scrunching his face up, ready to launch into a sibling tit-for-tat that Eddie’s a little jealous of. He hasn’t been close with his sisters in a long time.

Chris gets a hug from Chimney and Maddie both – and promptly drags both Buck and Chimney into the living room to show them how far he’s come in Animal Crossing. It’s kind of scary how industrious his kid is with this game – Eddie could’ve sworn just yesterday he was living in a tent, and now the house has a basement and two floor and a bunch of weird statues in it.

“He’s such a sweet kid,” Maddie says.

“Which one?” Eddie asks dryly, and she laughs. “Yeah, he is. He’s doing better now too, at school – Buck’s pretty hopeless with math but he loves science projects.”

“He always did,” Maddie says, and Eddie turns to her – he doesn’t know much about Buck’s childhood, so he listens with rapt attention as Maddie continues, “when he was eight he begged me to buy him a bunch of chemicals so that he could add tiny explosives to his mock-up World War 1 battlefield.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says, alarmed. “Did you?”

“No, but only because we didn’t have the money. He was a smart kid.” She’s watching him, now, a fond smile on her face. “Still smart. Doesn’t really think so, but he is.”

Eddie’s seen Buck work out logistical nightmares at work. He knows. “Yeah. Well, thank God, because if I’d had to make another volcano-”

They’re interrupted by the sounds of Chimney and Buck arguing over the TV, and Chris squealing with laughter.

“He’s a tiny capitalist asshole,” Eddie hears Buck say. After a squawk, a shuffle, and a shriek of laughter from Chris, he hears, “Don’t tell your dad I used a bad word.”

“It’s a secret,” Chris giggles.

“So – hang on – the raccoon needs Bells to pay off the mansion?”

“Yep.”

“Are there cheat codes?”

“Cheat codes are morally corrupt! We’re trying to teach Chris good life lessons here!”

“What, like the capitalist loan shark racoon putting Chris into millions of dollars of debt isn’t morally corrupt! Or, you know, slowly breaking him in for the real world? This is basically colourful, PG propaganda!”

“Children,” Eddie wonders aloud. “They’re all children.”

“He’s my brother, but you chose him,” Maddie says cheerfully. “Looks like it’s just me and you now. Beer?”

“Thanks.”

Maddie’s more of a wine drinker, and she playfully toasts him as they stand in the kitchen – she’s cooking, but Eddie’s been strictly relegated to chopping vegetables. He’s fine with that. He once overcooked them so badly they fell to pieces when he tried to plate them up.

“How’s he doing?” Maddie asks quietly.

Eddie looks to the living area. Buck and Chimney are both sitting cross-legged on the ground, near the TV, having a heated argument about the moral implications of cheat codes while Chris is catching a truly frightening number of tarantulas.

“He’s moving easier,” he says. “The hardware removal surgery did him good, even if recovery was a setback. Not bruised anymore, either, from the earthquake.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she replies gently.

Eddie focusses very hard on the sweet potato in his hand. “He’s hard to get a read on sometimes,” he admits. “If he doesn’t want me to know how he’s feeling he locks it all down. Doesn’t usually, but… well, he’s okay. I think therapy is hard. I think realising how bad your dad was to him is hard for him.”

“Our dad set us both up for abusive relationships,” Maddie agrees, voice clouded with guilt. “But I was older. I should’ve protected him from it, at least a little.”

“You know he doesn’t resent you for that, right? He loves you. He just wants you to be safe.”

Maddie puts her knife down. Her lower lip wobbles.

“Matt nearly killed him, Eddie,” she says tremulously. “If it hadn’t been for you and Athena, he would’ve bled to death in the snow. And I couldn’t even be there while he was recovering because I couldn’t even protect myself.”

“Hey,” Eddie says. “That’s not fair on you. Do you blame him for getting smacked over the head with a brick?”

“Of course not, I-”

“And he doesn’t blame you for getting stabbed. Kind of an unblameable offence if you ask me.” Eddie looks to Buck, bites his lip. “He’s put on ten pounds of muscle,” he offers. “He’s strong enough to carry Chris for hours. He saved me and two other people from falling out of a skyscraper during the earthquake and then got right back up and kept going. He’s the strongest I’ve ever seen him, Maddie. Physically or otherwise.”

She smiles, but her eyes are wet. “I’m so glad he has you.”

“Going into the future is cheating!” Buck yells from the living room.

“If he goes into the future and gets the collectibles from the holiday season he can sell them at twice market value!” Chim replies heatedly. “You can’t limit his earning potential, Buckaroo!”

“He makes eight thousand Bells per tarantula he farms-”

“Hard physical labour, and they keep stinging him! We’re supposed to want better for our children!”

“Dios mío,” Eddie groans as Maddie bursts into a peal of laughter. “He’s worse with Chim encouraging him.”

“You have to teach kids to work for their success,” Buck says, “or they’ll-”

“Buckaroo, are you kidding? There are ten-year-olds on Youtube who make more money in a day than we do in a year!”

“That’s called child exploitation and their parents directly benefit from that! You saw what happens to Youtube stars last week – they do stupid things for views and get stuck in microwaves!”

“Okay, you’ve got a point there. Still-”

There’s a harsh rap on the door, and both Eddie and Maddie turn to it, blinking. “We aren’t that loud,” Eddie mutters. “And it’s only six thirty.”

“The neighbours are usually good.” She goes to it, pulls it open.

Eddie’s gut lurches when he sees Paul on the other side, looking stern-faced and livid. Maddie takes a physical step back from him – one Paul uses to try and gain entry into the apartment.

“What are you-” Maddie starts.

“I’m here for my son,” Paul says, voice stiff with fury.

The living room has fallen silent, and in the next second, Buck appears in the doorway – Eddie gives up on fighting his body’s natural impulse to protect Buck and steps in front of both him and Maddie, some deep-seated fighting instinct roaring to life within him. It feels good, almost, to be this angry – feels like coming home to some part of himself he’s ignored for too long.

“You aren’t welcome here,” he says, taking another step forward when Paul attempts to get around him.

“This isn’t your house and it isn’t your family,” Paul spits. “Evan, you’ve been ignoring my calls for weeks now. It’s time to stop being a child and talk to me-”

Weeks? Eddie registers, his stomach sinking. Buck’s been getting calls for weeks?

“I was kind of ignoring them for a reason,” Buck says, his voice dangerously close to that subservient, afraid tone he reserves for people who scare him. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“And what the hell is this?” Paul gestures at the parts of the apartment he can see.

Buck’s face twists a little bit; Eddie can’t and won’t speak for him, but he wishes he could, because he can see the conflict in Buck’s pretty blue eyes. “I-”

“Get away from my son and let him talk,” Paul spits at Eddie.

“Like you’ve ever treated him like a son before,” Eddie snaps back, holding his ground and squaring his shoulders. “You wanna talk to either of them and you can go through me to do it.”

“This can probably be done better another time,” Chimney says.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Paul says, and Buck steps forward despite Eddie’s best attempt at keeping Buck behind him. “This is how badly I’ve failed you both – shacked up with a zipperhead, and you, Evan – playing happy faggots with this mouthy beaner?”

Buck grabs Paul by both shoulders and pushes him back, towards the door. Eddie can’t see his face – he’s honestly reeling from the insults and from seeing Buck move to physically hurt someone, let alone the father he’s been so afraid of his whole life.

“Get out,” Buck snaps.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Paul yells.

“We’re going for a walk,” Buck says, clipped, and steps outside with him, pulling the door shut.

Eddie goes to grab it – to follow – only to feel Maddie’s hand on his arm. When he turns to her, she looks distressed – but not worried.

“Don’t,” she says quietly.

“You know what Paul did to him,” Eddie says heatedly. “Fuck, you saw how he was last time-”

“Eddie, he needs to do this by himself,” Maddie says gently. “If you’re there the entire time he’s not going to speak his mind. He’s come so far. He won’t let Paul hurt him anymore. Dad – couldn’t even if he wanted to.” She inclines her head to the living room. “And Chris is still here,” she adds. “He needs his dad.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He wants to go after Buck. He wants to let Buck do this on his own. He wants to take the stricken look off of Chris’s face. He can’t do all of those things at once.

“Eddie,” Maddie says softly, “Buck might take endless abuse from everyone, and not do anything about that… as much as we both wish he wouldn’t… but he wouldn’t ever, ever let anyone dish it out to you or Chris.”

“I know that,” Eddie murmurs. “I don’t have to like it, though.”

“Where did Bucky go?” Chris asks.

Eddie turns and kneels. “Buck’s dad came by,” he says, quietly, watching as Chris nods along with him. “He said some not nice stuff. So they’ve gone to talk. But he’ll be okay, yeah? He’ll be back in no time.”

“But Buck is scared of his dad,” Chris says, voice tiny and wet. “Like I am of Mommy’s boyfriend.”

He feels, more than sees, the alarmed looks Chimney and Maddie are sharing over his head. He can’t blame them – they don’t know anything. He knows Buck wouldn’t have said anything, at any rate.

“Oh, buddy…” Eddie pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. Sometimes we get scared too, like you do, but Buck’s big, right? He’s big and he’s strong. So he’s safe.”

It’s not that simple. But there’s no other way to explain it that Chris will understand, not yet. So he leaves it at that, and hopes like hell that he can at least make his kid a little bit less afraid.

“Hey, Chris,” Chimney says. “How about we reset the time on Animal Crossing so that Buck’s happy when he gets back?”

“Bucky hates cheating,” Chris sniffles.

“He would,” Chimney agrees seriously. “Even if it’s just a videogame.”

Chimney takes Chris back to the living room, leaving Maddie and Eddie behind. Maddie looks worried too.

“I guess he figured out where I live,” she says quietly.

“You gotta take out an order or something,” Eddie replies.

“You haven’t taken one out against Shannon,” Maddie points out. “It wouldn’t work. People who need domestic violence orders don’t listen to them anyway, and the courts let us down every time.”

She’s horribly, succinctly right about that. Not for the first time lately, Eddie’s mind drifts – to the court case, to Shannon and her boyfriend, to Chris’s wellbeing. How is he supposed to protect his kid from what Buck went through if Chris’s other parent is knowingly bringing it home? He hates that there’s some things he can’t protect the kid from – and that those things are growing in number, right alongside Chris himself.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly. “I know.”

~*~

The door opens and closes a short time later, and Eddie’s the first one up and out of his seat, beelining for it.

Buck is unhurt, but visibly distressed, when Eddie makes it to him. “Hey,” he says tiredly. “Sorry I kind of bailed, I-”

Eddie takes Buck’s face in his hands gently, holds him there. Buck looks down at him – his eyes are tired and sad, but he’s not locked into a memory, or a behaviour. He’s here. Present.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks softly.

Buck nods wordlessly, but Eddie doesn’t doubt him. He pulls Buck in close – twists his fingers through the short curls at the back of Buck’s neck, presses his mouth into his shoulder. Buck’s shaking a little bit, but he doesn’t grip as if he’s afraid of letting go.

“Sorry I left,” Buck says.

“What? Why?” Eddie takes a step back. “You stood up to your dad for me.”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk to you like that.” Buck shakes his head. “It’s one thing if it’s me, but you and Chris…”

“Where is he?” Eddie demands. “I should beat the shit out of him-”

“He’s gone,” Buck says, forcefully, and Eddie stops the red rage from rising higher to look. “Eddie, he’s gone. I made him leave. He’s not coming back.”

“Tell me I don’t need to raise bail money, Buck,” Chimney says.

That brings a weak but genuine smile to Buck’s face. “You don’t need bail money.” He scrubs his face a little bit. “I just… put things in perspective. He’s gonna leave us alone. For good this time.”

“Okay,” Maddie says, and leans in to hug him. She murmurs something – Eddie doesn’t hear it, but he doesn’t need to. Buck’s safe, seems… content, if not happy – and he can live with that. He thinks they all can.

~*~

Chris is wiped from the evening, and he falls asleep in the car on the way home.

Buck’s driving. Eddie’s had a few beers – enough to make him loose and happy, enough that he turns to Buck in the drivers seat and says, “You’re brave. I love you.”

Buck’s mouth quirks. “You’re drunk. You love me because I’m brave?”

“You were brave when I wasn’t,” Eddie insists, leaning over a little bit. “Always are. You do the right thing even when it sucks. So yeah. I guess I love you because you’re brave.”

Buck’s really beaming now, and Eddie settles back smugly, knowing he’s made Buck’s night after it almost went to shit.

“Okay, Mr. Two-Sheets-To-The-Wind,” Buck teases. “Think it’s time I got you home.”

“I won’t turn into a pumpkin,” Eddie complains, and Buck outright laughs at that, parks the car, and opens the door for him. He stumbles out and up the steps, unlocks the place, turns to see Buck following with Chris in his arms.

“I love you,” he says again, stupidly. “And your stupid strong arms. And your dumb cat.”

“Hey now,” Buck teases. “He’s not that dumb.”

“He got tangled in my phone charger,” Eddie whines, and nearly trips over said cat on the way in. He gets swatted around the ankles for the trouble. “He thinks the toilet paper basket is a litter tray.”

“I think he just shits there to piss you off, actually.”

“Rude,” Eddie says, but addresses this statement to Concrete, who mewls grievously and winds through Eddie’s legs. He leans down to pet the cat as Buck puts Chris to bed, ruminating on the evening – on Paul, showing up there. The dickhead. Zipperhead… he’s heard that before.

“Your dad,” he says, when Buck returns, and feels instantly guilty when Buck freezes up a little. “Your dad was military.”

There’s a long pause. Buck’s at the sink, filling a glass with water. He comes back – presses it into Eddie’s hands, urges him to drink.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “How’d you know?”

“Used to yell at guys who used that word,” Eddie mumbles, sipping at the water gratefully. “Zipperhead. Hate that word. Only ever really heard it in the military. Beaner – used to that, though.”

“Eddie… can we not do this now?” Buck sounds exhausted. “I’m sorry. I just – I want to forget this ever happened.”

“Okay.” Eddie pauses for a moment. “You don’t look like him.”

Another long pause. He keeps drinking his water, wondering if he’s pushed too far, wondering if Buck’s even going to answer that. If it needs an answer. It’s a statement, really, not a question. Well. Maybe it’s sort of a question.

Finally, “I look like my mom.”

Eddie tips his head up. Buck’s watching him, face drawn and anxious.

“Dios,” Eddie mumbles, and puts the glass down to take Buck’s face in his hands, smooths his thumbs along the ridge of Buck’s cheekbones. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I tried to protect you. Didn’t want him anywhere near you, cariño.”

“I know you didn’t.” Buck gives him a weak smile. “You tried to hide me behind you, you freak. I’m taller than you and I outweigh you by forty pounds. What were you thinking?”

“Just want you safe,” Eddie mumbles, putting his face against Buck’s throat and inhaling his scent. “Don’t want you to get hurt. I’m angrier than you are.”

Buck’s arms wrap around him. “Anger stopped getting me anywhere a long time ago,” he murmurs into Eddie’s temple. “You have to let it go.”

“What do you have instead?” Eddie asks. “If you let it go – what now?”

Another long pause. Buck is swaying them, Eddie realises, and he’s not sure if it’s Buck trying to soothe him or trying to soothe himself. Is this another bathroom thing? Will Eddie wake up to find Buck curled on the tiles again tonight?

“I’m sad sometimes,” Buck admits. “I’m working on it.”

“I’ll work on it with you,” Eddie says, and Buck’s grip tightens. “I will. Until you aren’t. I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie.” Buck stands back, then, and Eddie pretends not to notice him drag a hand across his eyes. “C’mon. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

They crawl under the covers together and Eddie flops down on Buck’s chest, loose-limbed and his head spinning pleasantly. Buck’s heartbeat is like a metronome in his ear, steady and soothing.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck says. “For trying to protect me.”

Eddie lifts his head, squints. “Last time I checked, I succeeded,” he says blurrily.

Buck smiles. “Okay, yeah. You did. Now go to sleep.”


	29. Regression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, bitches, and you would not believe the sheer amount of WORK i have done in the last week. no, seriously. i did 25 hours overtime on top of my normal 45 work week. ya girl is loaded.
> 
> as normal thank you very much for all the love on the last chapter! this one has a trigger warning for buck sleeping in the bathroom, referenced child abuse, and referenced racism (no explicit terms used). enjoy!
> 
> as usual, i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com.

“Cold,” he mumbles.

He comes to roughly ten seconds after speaking, to the realization that it was him that spoke – in his sleep, obviously, with the covers pushed back around his hips and his skin exposed to the air. The fan in the corner of the bedroom is whirring away.

He blinks blearily, rolls, his head muzzy. Still a little drunk, which – maybe he hasn’t been asleep long? It doesn’t feel that way – feels like it should be morning – but something must’ve woken him up…

He opens his eyes again, with the realization that he’d closed them at some point. Buck’s side of the bed is empty.

It all floods back to him, then, the peace of half-sleep fleeing in the face of memories. Dinner at Maddie and Chim’s place, Buck’s dad showing up, Buck forcing him to leave and coming back and then – God, Buck said he didn’t want to talk about it and Eddie pushed it-

“Buck?” he asks, wobbling a little as he rises from the bed. How much did he drink? And why?

He stumbles out of the bedroom, into the hallway. His heart sinks when he sees light beneath the bathroom door, knows even before he opens it what he’s going to find there.

Sure enough, Buck is crammed into the corner again, skin rippling with goosebumps and shivers. He’s dragged a towel down over himself for warmth – obviously it isn’t helping – and he’s asleep.

Eddie’s gut lurches. How long has Buck been in here that he successfully fell asleep? And – he didn’t bring a blanket or his phone, which means he must’ve been blind with fear when he left the bedroom, and Eddie didn’t notice. He didn’t notice.

“Buck,” he calls quietly.

Buck jerks, startled, his eyes blinking open. It’s heartbreaking to see him scrabble against the tiles, looking for purchase, for a way to escape. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders why Buck would cram himself into a spot so small he can’t easily get out from it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, and Buck’s eyes zero in on him. “Hey, baby.”

“Eddie.” Buck rubs his eyes. “You okay?”

“You’re sleeping on the bathroom floor and asking if I’m okay?”

Buck blinks wearily. “Sorry.”

“Don’t – it’s okay. Just – you wanna come back to bed?”

He’s not entirely surprised when Buck shakes his head, but he is a little saddened by it. “Well,” he hedges, “can I join you?”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “You wanna join me?”

“Well, I’m not leaving you in here by yourself.”

After a moment, Buck parts his legs – a clear invitation – and Eddie sinks to the tiles to slot in between them, pressing his lips briefly to Buck’s neck. Buck sighs.

After a moment, Buck shifts and winces. “It’s cold,” he says.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “This kinda sucks, you know.”

To his surprise, Buck laughs. “I don’t sleep here because it’s comfortable,” he teases gently.

Eddie tips his head up to look at him. There’s bags under his eyes, and he looks almost bruised, all over, like tonight is the night that everything got to be a little too much and it just hurts too much for him to rest.

“You’re not alone,” Eddie says. “I’m on the floor with you.”

Buck lets out a shaky sigh, lets his head rest against the tiles. Then he begins to move – to get up – and Eddie scoots back to let him, unsure of whether this is a good development or a bad one. It’s hard to tell, sometimes, even when he’s really looking.

When Buck stands, he moves forward, takes the back of Eddie’s neck in his hand gently, and kisses him, soft, on the mouth. Eddie barely manages to kiss back when Buck pulls away from him.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “Hard to spin out and panic when you’re here.”

Eddie wonders if he’s somehow become a division in Buck’s life – the knife-edge between Then and Now, Before Matt and After Matt. He’s happy to be that – he never had the knife-edge, not after Afghanistan, not even when Shannon slept beside him and the smell of Chris’s baby shampoo clung to his t-shirt. It was all from Before, and then it all got mixed up in the After.

“Bed?” Buck asks.

“Yeah. If you’re ready.”

As if answering, Buck yawns widely, and they pad back into the bedroom. The moment Buck flops down on his back, Eddie scoots in close, drapes himself over Buck like a blanket.

He feels the amused rumble of Buck’s laugh before he hears it. “Comfy?”

“Yep.”

“I know what you’re doing, you know.”

“That’s fine.” He presses a kiss to Buck’s chest. “Go back to sleep, hermoso.”

~*~

Buck was super into science as a kid. He was super smart as a kid. His father was military, clearly, and he looks more like his mother than his father. His mother died when he was young, and he only had Maddie from then on out.

These pretty much sum up the things that Eddie knows about Buck pre-adulthood. And it’s not like they’ve ever really discussed their childhoods before only – only Eddie knows nothing. Eddie knows the exact sum of the four things he just listed, and there’s so much more that seems important – like, how long was Buck left alone with his father after Maddie left? How did he end up running straight to Matt? What happened with all the missing time?

He wants to ask, but he also gets the distinct impression that Buck really, really does not want to talk about it. At all.

Today’s an important day. Today is the day they take Buck off blood thinners – for good, in theory. Buck’s excited, because it means he can go back to regular duties without worrying that a piece of glass might cut him and send him into hypovolemic shock, but Eddie’s nervous. There’s withdrawal, and there’s the potential for more blood clots, and – why are they doing this again?

“No drugs,” Buck announces, downright gleeful, as he bounds into the waiting room. He stands out, considering everyone else is miserable. “As of today, I am blood thinner free!”

“That’s great,” Eddie says, but he’s running over the list of withdrawal symptoms in his head for the umpteenth time. They’ve tapered the dose, and it shouldn’t be too bad, but it doesn’t hurt to know. At least they both have the next two days off.

“Eddie,” Buck whines. “C’mon. You know how many foods I can eat now?”

“All of them?”

“Exactly! Except kiwi fruit, I’m allergic.” They step out into the sunlight, where Buck takes a deep breath, then releases it. “We should celebrate,” he says. “Ice cream?”

Well, how can Eddie say no to that?

~*~

It’s fun until they hit the twelve hour mark, which is roughly when Buck starts to complain of a dry mouth, and his energy levels plummet through the floor.

Side effects wise, this is really the best Eddie could’ve hoped for. That doesn’t make him feel a lot better as Buck sleeps fitfully on the sofa with Eddie stroking his hair gently. One more hurdle, Eddie reminds himself. This is just one more hurdle, and then he’ll be fine. A normal, healthy twenty seven year old.

It’s never been easy to watch Buck suffer. This is mild compared to some of the other shit Eddie’s seen, and it still makes him want to wrap Buck in bubble wrap and protect him from the world.

“Stop worrying,” Buck mumbles thickly. His mouth is somewhere near Eddie’s thigh, and that would normally be tantalizing – but he can’t bring himself to be turned on when Buck is so clearly down in the dumps.

“Can’t help it,” Eddie says, massaging the back of Buck’s neck lightly and getting a groan of appreciation in return. “Kind of my thing.”

Buck opens one blue eye and squints up at him. “You need to get Chris from school,” he mumbles.

“You gonna be okay here on your own?”

“I’m just tired.”

Eddie can’t argue with that – he knows it’s true – so he goes to pick up Chris and stops at the convenience store on the way home, picks up the ice cream sandwiches he knows are Buck’s favourite.

When he gets back, Buck has moved from the couch to the dining table, tapping away absently at his laptop. He smiles at Eddie and Chris when they come in, and pulls Chris into his lap right away – he seems a little bit brighter than when Eddie left, which is nice.

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah. Kinda hungry.”

Eddie produces the box of ice creams with a flourish, and Buck beams, laughs in a way that makes Eddie think – I’m going to marry this man if he’ll have me, and he’s not even staggered by it the way he would’ve been months ago. Now, he quietly accepts that it’s far too soon to get down on one knee, but God. This man.

“I love you,” Buck declares happily, munching away on an ice cream sandwich. He makes a show about hiding them from Chris, which causes a cascade of giggles, then relents and shares. Eddie watches the scene fondly – he can’t help but think that this is what he’s wanted, maybe his entire life.

He goes over when Chris has retreated to the living room, puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders, and makes a complete mess of kissing Buck upside down. “I’m glad you live with us,” he says quietly, running his fingers through Buck’s wild curls just to watch him relax into the touch. “How’re you feeling?”

“Much better. Ice cream fixes all, don’t you know that?”

If Buck’s still struggling with the effects of coming off his blood thinners by nightfall, he doesn’t show it. They go to bed early, and while Eddie wakes a few times during the night, it’s always to the realization that Buck is asleep. The only indication that he wasn’t are the three empty water bottles on the bedside table in the morning – the thirst has stuck with him, then.

Chris is still asleep, and Buck’s dead to the world, curled into a ball beneath the duvet and with his head pillowed awkwardly on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s careful about reaching for his phone – doesn’t want to wake Buck – and swipes it open.

There’s a message from Shannon. She wants to see Chris. His stomach knots, and he’s about to put the phone down – before Buck bats it away sleepily.

“S’too early,” he mumbles, pressing a clumsy kiss to Eddie’s bare chest. “Rot your brain.”

“Says the man who spends a huge amount of his free time on Wikipedia,” Eddie teases, combing his fingers through Buck’s hair. “Feeling okay?”

“Thirsty,” Buck yawns, and staggers out of bed to go in search of water. He’s not even limping, and Eddie feels a surge of hope that maybe Buck’s health problems are behind him and they can live normally, without one of them being on a schedule of pills.

Buck returns, carrying a water bottle, his eyes only half open. He slumps back into bed with the mildly confused air of someone who was woken mid-dream, then turns to look at Eddie.

“What’s she want?” he asks, voice a little slurred from sleep.

“To see Chris. The usual.”

“Does Chris want to see her?”

“I’ll ask. Otherwise… I either say no and she brings it up in court, or I say yes and put my kid in danger.” Eddie rubs his eyes. “I don’t even know if she’s still seeing that loser Ricky.”

“You think she would?” Buck asks, rolling onto his stomach. “After finding out that he hit Chris?”

“I don’t want to think she would,” Eddie admits quietly. “But I can’t be sure.”

“Hmm.” Buck blinks, yawns. “Court case?”

“Nothing new on that front yet.” He chews his lip; he’s been worrying about it. “I’m gonna go shower, okay?”

He tries to ignore the way Buck sits up, obviously concerned, as he grabs a change of clothes and steps into the bathroom. The water feels like heaven – even if his brain is spinning its wheels in the mud, trying to work out how to go about things.

He should really talk to Buck. Let him know how he’s feeling. But Buck’s just come off blood thinners and has more to worry about than Eddie’s shitty tragic backstory.

By the time he steps out, it’s almost forty minutes later – the longest shower he’s had since Chris was born. He’d forgotten how much time got freed up when he’s tag-team parenting with someone else.

He towels off, dresses, and steps out into the hallway. The day is warm, and Chris is playing in his room quietly.

“Concrete, look at me.”

His mouth quirks of its own accord, and he steps into the living room. Buck is sitting cross-legged on the ground, Concrete sitting in front of him, his tail swishing. In Buck’s hand is one of the dozens of toy mice the cat owns.

“Does this spark joy?” Buck asks.

“Are you trying to Marie Kondo your cat?” Eddie asks incredulously.

“I love that you know what that is,” Buck says cheerfully. Concrete biffs the mouse out of Buck’s hand and chases it until it skitters under the couch, then meows mournfully at Buck.

“Well, that’s your fault,” Buck says reasonably. “I keep telling you not to hit them under there.”

“I can’t believe you’re – he’s a cat. Anything you give him that moves, crinkles, or can be stuffed with catnip sparks joy.”

“He needs to learn to let go,” Buck pants, lifting the couch enough to grab a handful of mice. “We can’t keep all of them. He can’t even use all of them. But back to – you know the Marie Kondo method?”

“Sadly, I know it’s called the Konmari method,” Eddie says dryly. “Because you made me watch the entire first season when you were recovering from your hardware removal surgery.”

“Did you or did you not clear out half your belongings afterwards?” Buck demands, pointing a feathered stick in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie sighs. Buck’s right, but it’s not something he particularly wants to admit to. The house has never felt so clean and spacious as it does now. “Getting rid of our stuff wasn’t enough, now you’re gonna make your cat go through an emotional gamut of getting rid of possessions?”

“I’m going to try.” Buck scoops Concrete up – who meows indignantly – and says, “How about this one?”

Concrete looks at it, then turns his head away, disinterested.

“See! He can do it!” Buck throws it towards the front door.

“Well,” Eddie laughs, “you have fun with that. I’m gonna get ready for work.”

~*~

Buck’s withdrawal is over quickly, and within another two days, he’s cleared to resume work at the 118. His bloodwork is better than it has been in a year, and he’s moving smoothly, without pain.

“Fantastic recovery,” the doctor says. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved to get back to work. You firefighters never seem to get enough of it.”

“Best job in the world, doc,” Buck says, beaming from ear to ear. “Hey, no offence, but I hope I never see you again.” With that, he hops off the table to get changed – the gown isn’t doing him any favours.

“The year is still young,” the doctor says cheerfully.

Buck frowns at him, holds his hands up. “Rude,” he says, but they’re both smiling when he closes the door. Eddie, for his part, has never felt so relieved in his life. This isn’t just Buck looking and feeling okay – this is a clean bill of health from a highly trained professional.

“You must be relieved too,” the doctor says.

“I wouldn’t exactly be upset if he chose something a little safer,” Eddie says ruefully. “You know, a job where the world doesn’t actively try to kill him every day.”

“I doubt he’d be happy doing anything else,” the doctor laughs.

~*~

True to what Buck’s luck seems to be like, they get a callout within half an hour of starting their next shift – Hen’s made a cake for Buck’s full return to health, and they’ve hardly started.

“This is bullshit,” Chimney moans. “People getting into trouble. What is it this time?”

“Man has gone missing in a graveyard,” Bobby briefs them. “Left his phone behind. He’s normally day-shift and the night shift hasn’t found him yet – he’s just gotten divorced.”

“People going missing in graveyards is how horror movies start,” Buck mutters. “And I’m so white I’ll be the first to bite the dust.”

There’s not much more info – they manage to get ahold of the ex-wife, who hasn’t seen the guy, and speak to the night shift when they get there. The graveyard is eerily dark and silent, with the shadow of an excavator looming in the background.

“Alright, people, listen up,” Bobb says. “We’re looking for an adult male, mid to late fifties. He’s gone missing somewhere around here – his coworkers said it’s unusual, and he left his phone behind.”

“So we’re… looking for a body? In a graveyard?” Buck asks.

“He’s got a point, cap,” Chim says. “Needle in a haystack. Where do we even start?”

“We start with the sinkhole that just opened up near an excavation site,” Bobby says. “We’re starting with a line search – I want you guys three feet apart, clearing the area. Torches out – nothing is lighting up the graveyard itself.”

Line searches are slow work. Not only are they looking for a human body or person in distress, they’re looking for signs that anyone was there at all – footprints, dropped items, any kind of disturbance that might lead them to finding their guy. How, Eddie wonders, does the one alive guy manage to go missing in a field of dead people?

“You know,” Buck says, torchlight flashing over some hedges, “if this was a horror movie, I’d already be dead.”

“You don’t even watch movies,” Chimney says.

“That’s not true,” Buck protests as Eddie tries to hide a grin. “I saw Ready Player One three times last year. And I watched Dead Poets Society.”

“You watched-?”

“Anyway,” Buck says pointedly, “horror movie. I’d be dead.”

“I think I would be actually,” Eddie says.

Buck shakes his head, taking another uneasy step forward. “Nah,” he says. “Maybe forty years ago when racism in horror films was pretty overt and people of colour were treated as token minorities for representation points – but not now. Eddie, you’re half Mexican and your last name is Diaz – audience identifies you straight away. Hen’s a black woman. Chim’s Asian. Bobby is obviously party leader and protagonist – probably has a dark and sordid past as the only survivor of some horrible event. Chris is a kid, so he’s immortal. I’m a basic white guy. I’d die first. I’d die in the first act. Nobody would even know my name until the credits-”

“I’d prefer you didn’t die in the first act,” Eddie says. “Can you see anything?”

“Nah.” Another careful step forward. “I mean, maybe my death serves to make the rest of you realise how fucked up your situation is. Maybe-”

“Do you think about this a lot, baby?” Hen asks. Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice.

“Uh, about as much as I think about other things,” Buck says. “Like the collective hivemind of the seagulls in Finding Nemo. Somewhere behind the economic and military expansion hinted at in A Bug’s Life, though.”

There’s silence for a moment. Eddie reaches out and taps Buck on the hip, smiles at him when Buck looks a little confused.

“Now I understand why Chris keeps talking about capitalism,” he says.

“No way,” Buck scoffs. “That’s Animal Crossing, not me.”

“He wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told him.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. He recognizes the political system, he just doesn’t know the name for-”

The ground gives beneath Eddie’s feet, and he doesn’t get the chance to make a sound before he’s going down – the dirt slips and he’s on his ass faster than he can blink, heels dug in to try and find purchase.

He hears Hen call out, and then Buck grabs him bodily under the shoulders and yanks him back up before he can really slide further – into a very, very deep sinkhole.

“Dios,” Eddie breathes.

Buck hauls him to his feet. “You okay?”

“My pride is hurt. The rest of me will live.”

Chim peers over the edge as Bobby approaches, giving Eddie a worried once-over. “Hmm,” Chim says. “Guess they’re really running budget funerals now.”

“Dark,” Buck says. “Well timed though. Eight out of ten.”

Chimney mock-bows. “I’m here all night.”

“Okay,” Bobby calls. “We’re gonna have to be careful of the sinkhole, but if we work in teams we should be able to find out man – we don’t want the earth to shift any further, especially not with us in it, so I want Eddie and Chim to go first.”

Buck squawks, but Bobby holds up a hand.

“Buck, you’re a lot heavier than the both of them,” he says. “We can’t bring the truck in here without risking it collapsing. I want you to run tether and keep your eyes on the dirt. Hen, see if we can find the excavator – might make digging easier at any rate.”

“We bring the excavator in here the dirt might collapse further,” Buck says. “Before we even find the guy.”

“Good point. Alright – Chim, Eddie, I want you guys digging. Hen, go grab the crash kit from the truck. Buck – you’re still on rope duty.”

They find the guy without much incident and a lot of digging. It’s unclear whether it was an accident or whether he’d attempted some sort of suicide but dirt – suffocation, maybe, but a horrible way to go. Eddie’s sure there’d be a faster way.

It takes the entire team to fully unbury him and get him up the steep slope of the sinkhole – Buck leads from the front, picking out footholds with a sense of unerring sureness.

“I used to go hiking a lot in South America,” he explains when they’re back in the truck. There’s a smear of dirt on his nose. “You start to realise what areas look bad to walk on.”

“You’re like a blonde mountain goat,” Hen says, reaching over to try and wipe the dirt off Buck’s nose. “A dirty mountain goat.”

Buck waves her off. “I’m not a kid,” he groans. “We’ve still got hours left. I’m just gonna shower at the end of the shift anyway.”

“Can’t help it, baby,” she says, smiling.

“I’m the biggest person here,” Buck whines.

“And the youngest,” Eddie points out, but he knocks his foot against Buck’s gently to soften the teasing.

It’s a weird rest of the day, to say the least. They manage to catch a bit of sleep, by which time it’s morning for their final callout of the day. Next up is an old guy who won’t let anyone except Buck or Bobby treat him due to rampant and unchecked racism.

“Diaz?” he splutters. “What kind of name is that? Is that Mexican?”

“Half,” Eddie says. “I can treat you with the Swedish half, but I don’t know which half that is.”

“Get away from me!” The man’s eyes cast around, immediately discarding Hen and Chimney. “You!” he gasps at Bobby. “You do it!”

“I’m not a paramedic, sir,” Bobby says.

“What about him?” He’s pointing at Buck – who, to a racist, elderly waste of space like this guy, must look like a wet dream, with his pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes.

“Also not a paramedic,” Buck says, who looks irritated with the man’s attitude and isn’t bothering to try and hide it. “Your choices are Eddie, Hen, or Chimney.”

“What’s your job then?” he groans. “To look pretty?”

“Can’t treat someone who’s refusing medical care,” Hen says dryly.

Right then, the man gags – and vomits up a stream of human shit. Eddie’s stomach rolls, and he just manages to avoid gagging by looking at Buck – who, even as he’s moved to turn the man on his side, has tilted his head sideways like a puppy.

“Literal diarrhea from the mouth,” Chimney marvels. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Buck is still worked up when they eventually get back to the 118, ostensibly for some food – not that any of them feel hungry after that particular display. “Can’t believe he refused treatment because of your race,” he complains, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt in the way he knows drives Eddie up the fucking wall. “People like that still exist?”

“I can’t believe he thought you were there just to look pretty,” Eddie says, mostly to lighten the mood. He’s used to it, even if he shouldn’t have to be, and it doesn’t hold the sting it did when he was younger. For Buck, it’s a new experience, having to see and deal with it. Not for the first time, Eddie is grateful that Christopher is blonde and blue-eyed. “I mean, you have at least two other purposes that you serve.”

“Not saying you aren’t pretty, Buckaroo,” Chimney says as Buck blushes. “You could definitely have your own Disney movie. What Eddie’s getting at is that you’re much more than your looks.”

“… That’s actually one of the nicest things you’ve ever said, Chim. Like… ever.”

Chimney bows a little, causing them all to laugh, and they head upstairs. Buck’s got a little furrow between his eyes that always means he’s thinking too hard – Eddie knocks him gently on the arm.

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t worry about it, querido. There’s less and less of them every day.”

“He probably voted Trump,” Buck mutters sullenly. “He’s probably gonna vote for Trump again.”

Eddie suppresses a laugh. “Not if he can’t talk past his ostomy bag backing up.”

“I don’t like it when people talk to you that way,” Buck says quietly. “The way my dad talks to you. And to Chim.”

Eddie sighs. He can tell he’s not going to be able to joke his way out of this one.

“Buck…” He stops, puts a hand on Buck’s neck, strokes the hinge of his jaw. “It really doesn’t bother me anymore, baby. It doesn’t. Your dad and everyone like him – I have to tune them out. The most important thing is that you know me and love me, and knowing you’ll stick up for me means more than anything any of them could come up with.”

There’s a pause. Buck blinks at him. Then, “Did you – did you just verbalise how you felt without our therapist present?”

Eddie laughs, relieved, and Buck joins in. Maybe he’s getting better with this whole telling-people-how-he-feels crap.

While he’s at it, he should probably talk about Shannon more, and the lawsuit. But Buck is happy and Eddie has it in hand for once and he really, really doesn’t want to worry the guy – so he brushes it aside, smiles, and says, “Breakfast?”

~*~

They’re not all that tired when they get home – it was a slower night, and they managed to get a decent sleep in the bunks. Eddie enjoys those nights – he loves the good night’s rest and their recovery day, which turns into more than just sleeping if they get the chance.

Chris has gone to school with abuela, today, and when Eddie and Buck walk in, the house is weirdly quiet. Even Concrete barely spares them a look – he goes back to sleeping almost as soon as they both walk in, giving a perfunctory purr when Buck pats his head.

Buck’s already getting undressed. He unbuttons his shirt, revealing the firehouse t-shirt beneath, stretched across his muscles. He looks – healthy, Eddie thinks. Great, even.

Buck looks up, as if sensing that he’s being watched. The moment their eyes meet, there’s a spark – Eddie feels it clear across the room, something crackling, something about to combust. He doesn’t care to avoid the explosion.

It's been a while. Too long. Eddie feels itchy, like his skin is just shy of being the right size for him and he'd rather crawl into Buck instead.

Buck swallows. He looks flushed across the face, although they haven't been doing anything physical. "I'll do the dishes," he says.

Eddie strides across the room and gets a hand on him, on his chest, pushes him into the wall and kisses him, licks inside Buck's mouth until Buck is gasping against his lips and separating to get some air. When Eddie looks at him again, he's definitely flushed, eyes foggy with lust.

"Shut up about the dishes," Eddie says.

Buck surges towards him, nearly two hundred pounds of insane strength and muscle, gets right up into Eddie's space and returns the kiss with fervour. Eddie pushes back. He wants to be in charge here, and when Buck acquiesces after a few moments - his back returning to the wall - Eddie knows he's won.

He slots a leg between Buck's, groaning when Buck rolls his hips and he can feel the hard line of Buck's cock through his pants. There's no one to interrupt them this time.

"Fuck, Eddie," Buck whispers brokenly.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks.

"Everything. All of it."

"All of it?" Eddie murmurs. He's got a hand up under Buck's shirt and he's rolling Buck's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger - it's formed a hard peak in no time, and it's left Buck weak at the knees.

"Yeah," Buck gasps.

Eddie pulls him away from the wall, towards the couch, and Buck follows hungrily, his hands on Eddie's belt buckle and jeans. He only pauses when Eddie yanks his shirt off over his head.

His legs hit the couch. He's down, and Buck's sitting on top of him, much like he did the first time, only this time they’re _together_ together and Buck doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t flinch - he's kissing Eddie like he'll die if he doesn't and rocking his hips urgently.

Eddie reaches down and finds Buck's belt and zipper, pulls both open so he can palm Buck's dick. Buck moans into his mouth, pressing his belly to Eddie's.

"I want your pants off," Eddie says.

Buck listens. He stands and begins to divest himself of his clothes, and Eddie yanks his shirt off in the meantime. He spares a brief thought for the couch before Buck is on him again, in boxers and nothing else, his skin already a little tacky to the touch. The smell of his aftershave meets Eddie’s nose, and he groans, buries his face in Buck’s neck and breathes in.

“We have a bed,” he mumbles urgently. “Why aren’t we in bed?”

Buck climbs off him, and they stagger to the bedroom, sex-drunk and not worrying about slamming the door behind them. They’re not going to get interrupted with Chris out of the house, and Eddie doesn’t need to tell Buck to be quiet when he pushes him back on the mattress and strokes his cock.

“Eddie,” Buck groans. “C’mon, don’t tease.”

It’s been a while since they got this far – too long – and Eddie fumbles in the bedside table drawer, finds the lube, lets it sit on the pillow while Buck shucks off his boxers.

He watches Buck move, the bunching of his muscles and the light glinting off the bright white scars on his leg. He’s reaching for the lube without even knowing he’s doing it, squirts some into his hand. Buck’s fingers are fumbling with his belt buckle, and his cock is so hard it fucking hurts.

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” Buck gasps, and then groans when Eddie strokes him, marvelling at how thick and heavy he is. His fingers fumble on Eddie’s zipper. “S’not fair-”

“Well, get them off me, then,” Eddie says. Buck successfully works out the zip, and Eddie steps away for long enough to kick everything off before he’s back – he finds Buck’s mouth and kisses him, open-mouthed and messy, his hand trailing down to Buck’s entrance.

Buck’s whole body erupts into shivers when he’s touched, and Eddie feels his cock twitch when he works a finger in slowly. “Faster,” Buck demands.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, cariño.”

“You’re not hurting me,” Buck mumbles, his hands running the length of Eddie’s body. “God, Eddie, please, it’s been forever, please-”

Begging has always reduced Eddie to near zero intelligence or restraint. He comes back with another finger, and then another, until Buck feels relaxed and he’s incoherent with pleasure. This is how he likes it – Buck, wanting, trusting that Eddie and only Eddie can provide for him. At least like this.

“Turn over,” he says, and Buck does, pretty on all fours. Eddie slides a hand up his spine and pushes until Buck’s elbows give, and he’s stretched out, knees apart. “God, Buck, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

He’s not surprised to see a faint flush beginning on Buck’s ears. He reaches around and strokes Buck’s dick – Buck moans, this time, his fingers bunching the sheets so hard he pulls the bottom one off the corner. It really has been a while. There’s nothing between them – no condoms, not after they both got tested and had decided to be exclusive, but – this will be the first time without one.

He lines himself up, already slick, and begins to push in gently. Buck’s body gives easily, and he’s not sure if it’s his own groan or Buck’s that he can feel reverberating through his chest. Buck’s tight and hot and already pushing back against him, and with his shoulders down, Eddie can bend over him properly, get a hand underneath him.

Once fully seated, he pauses, giving them both a moment. Buck’s panting like a racehorse, his breath occasionally hitching with what Eddie thinks might be aborted whimpers. He’s hard in Eddie’s hand, but he seems to instinctually know that he’s not supposed to move.

“Don’t come until I say you can,” Eddie says, and Buck shivers, but he nods.

They’re moving, then. Buck’s body is hot and tight, not only around him but in general – his muscles bunch when he pushes back against Eddie’s weight, as he fists the covers, as he tries to turn and get a kiss. Eddie meets him halfway, the angle uncomfortable for their necks, everything about it messy – clicking teeth and foreheads pressed together.

“I’m not gonna last,” Buck moans, and he’s not lying – he’s so rigid in Eddie’s hand it has to hurt, and his dick has been beading with precoma for the last minute or so. He’s holding on, doing exactly what Eddie told him to – and Eddie’s hips and thighs are burning, so-

“You can come, Buck,” he pants into Buck’s shoulder. “C’mon. Come for me.”

He watches, for a moment, as Buck’s whole body draws taut like the string of a bow – he tugs the sheets again, knuckles white where they’re fisted in, and yanks like he’s scrabbling for purchase. The mattress appears underneath, and Buck’s soundless, it’s that good – Eddie feels him twitch, and then his grip gets slick with Buck’s come, and he can feel Buck’s entire body contracting around him.

He lets go. It’s white hot pleasure in all the best ways, slamming home in Buck’s body and listening to him pant through it, spilling until he feels wrung dry. His chest is heaving with the effort, and they’re both sweating feverishly. It’s been a long time since they’ve managed to have sex like this – no holds barred, no sounds too loud.

“Fuck,” Buck moans brokenly. His back is heaving with his breath.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Hurt me? No, but fuck, Eddie – you just about killed me.” Buck’s legs are shaking, and his forehead is pillowed awkwardly on his forearms. “I’ll be feeling that next month.”

He’s a little smug about that and it’s hard to pretend not to be. “Sorry,” he says.

“You are not.” Buck begins to straighten his arms out. “Fuck, that was so good, Eddie.”

“If you keep going I’m gonna start to think you’ll thank me.” He eases out, gently – there’s no condom to tie off. He came in Buck, which – they hadn’t explicitly talked about.

“I came in you,” he realises. “Sorry. I should’ve asked-”

Buck – who’s flopped down just away from the wet patch – looks at him blearily. “Isn’t this sort of the whole point of going condomless?” he asks. “It’s kinda hot anyway. For now. It’s gonna be gross in like five minutes.”

Eddie laughs breathlessly, staggers off on shaky legs to find something to clean them up with. The bed is a wreck – the pillows and duvet have been shoved to the ground, and their frantic sex has left all but one corner of the fitted sheet torn from the corners of the mattress.

“We should change the sheets,” Eddie says. “Seeing as you’ve already done most of the work ripping them off.”

“Five minutes,” Buck says. “Let me glow.”

“Fine.” Eddie flops down next to him. “But we’ve only got until Chris comes back.”

Buck rolls onto his side, grinning, and props his head on his hand as he looks at Eddie. His hair is tousled and face red with exertion, but he looks pretty pleased with himself.

“Until Chris comes back?” he asks. “Dude, there’s room for round two in there yet.”

~*~

Buck has the next day off, but Eddie doesn’t, which sees him rolling out of bed earlier than his boys and padding into the kitchen for coffee.

He makes enough for Buck to have some as well, and he’s eating dry cereal when he hears movement from their bedroom. It’s not long before Buck appears in the doorway, creases in his cheek from the pillowcase. Eddie bites down on a grin – Buck must’ve slept really well. Not surprising, given that they did have a round two.

“You off?” Buck yawns sleepily.

“Yep.” Eddie grabs a bit of toast from the toaster; Buck’s only wearing sweats, and they’re sitting dangerously low on his hips. There’s nothing Eddie wants more than to pull them off and taste him – but he can’t, because he’s only got five minutes between being a little late and being very late.

“I was gonna take Chris out today,” Buck says, suddenly, and Eddie turns to face him – he looks a little nervous. “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is.” He leans over and gives Buck a quick kiss. Buck and Chris hardly ever go out on their own – just for fun, that is. Buck is still navigating all the requirements for having a successful outing with a kid, let alone a kid with CP. “Go have fun.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. It’s a great day outside. No point all of us being cooped up.” Eddie tugs his uniform t-shirt on. “Take pictures for me.”

“Okay.” Buck kisses him, and Eddie pulls away before he begins to think he’s not gonna make it out the front door. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Buck.”

He steps out onto the front porch, marveling at how clear the sky is after a few overcast days, and takes a second to bemoan the fact that the pier will be packed with activities that Chris has wanted to do for a while.

The pier will always be there, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol good luck with that cliffhanger tho


	30. The Pier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg hai i'm back
> 
> i've done something a lil different with this chapter to try and capture the true horror of the tsunami arc in the actual show - i hope you enjoy!  
> also kudos to ashavahishta on tumblr, whose comment about suing me if i didn't post made me genuinely cackle after a really shitty day at work.
> 
> trigger warning for this chapter: the tsunami. mentions of buck's ex boyfriend and dad, but nothing overt. pls enjoy!
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com

He wakes up with his nose in Eddie’s pillow, pleasantly sore, even pleasantly drained – he slept well, right after two rounds of thorough sex.

Eddie’s gone. The covers are turned back and Buck’s managed to get himself diagonal across the bed – his feet are on his side, but he’s got his arms shoved under Eddie’s pillow as he breathes in his scent. The bed still smells more like Eddie than it does like Buck, just because it’s been Eddie’s longer. Buck almost hopes it stays that way forever.

He feels a gentle paw on his shoulder and opens his eyes to see Concrete peering down at him curiously. He smiles sleepily, scoops the cat closer, and kisses his head. “Good morning,” he says, and Concrete mewls back.

He hears a clatter in the kitchen, realizes Eddie’s still home. If he’s quick, he’ll have time to say goodbye before he heads off to work. He’s stumbling as he moves out of the bed, hops his way into a pair of sweats, and stumbles out into the hallway.

Eddie’s eating dry cereal – with his hands, because he was raised in a barn, Buck guesses – and smiles when Buck enters. It turns into this amused little grin, soft around the edges, when he looks at Buck, and Buck – God, he’s never gonna get tired of Eddie looking at him like that.

“You off?” he yawns, rubbing his eyes.

“Yep.” Eddie’s eyes are roving over his body hungrily, even as he reaches for a bit of toast in the toaster.

Buck takes a breath. Chris has the day off school and Buck the day off work – they’ve never really been out alone together, but maybe it’s time they tried it. He knows what he’s doing, he thinks – knows to take the crutches and medicine and plenty of snacks and colouring books and there’s just a lot to think about with kids, really. He wants to try going out – maybe to the zoo, or the pier – he’s just not entirely sure Eddie will say yes.

“I was gonna take Chris out today,” he says, nervously. “If that’s alright with you?”

Eddie looks downright pleased with that. Something in Buck’s chest loosens. He knows he belongs here, that Eddie and Chris are his people as much as Maddie is, but sometimes the memories of Matt creep in, or his dad, and he finds it hard to remember.

“Of course it is.” Eddie kisses him, quick and soft, leaving Buck unsatisfied and wanting more. “Go have fun.”

“For real?” Buck asks, grinning. He’s – excited, because every day it feels like he’s Chris’s third parent more and more, and if Eddie is happy for him to take Chris out, then maybe he’s not the only one.

“Yeah. It’s a great day outside. No point all of us being cooped up.” Eddie grabs his uniform t-shirt to pull on – Buck watches, rapt, at the sleek slide of Eddie’s muscles beneath his skin. He’s built entirely differently to Buck, narrower at the hips and waist and with much more defined musculature. He doesn’t look like a big guy until he takes his shirt off. Something about that is attractive to Buck – that Eddie looks like a normal dad, if a hot dad, but could probably take down someone twice his size.

Not that he wants to see that happen. He’s a lover, not a fighter.

“Take pictures for me,” Eddie says, apparently unaware that Buck’s been eating the eye candy.

“Okay.” Buck steps in, kisses him, puts a hand on his waist – Eddie pulls away before it can verge into territory that might make him late. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Buck.”

~*~

_Chris clings to Buck like Buck can make things better._

_Eddie’s birthday is coming up. Buck’s already organized, but Chris is insistent on getting something for his dad – so Buck enlists Abuela and Pepa, and they head down to the mall together, a ragtag little family garnering some odd looks. Buck is very obviously not related to them._

_“What did you get Daddy?” Chris asks._

_He’s riding on Buck’s shoulders because the mall is packed and it’s easier this way – Buck never even considered that people might be jerks about kids on crutches, but they are, and after Chris got knocked the second time with no apology he’d had enough. Besides, it’s not like he’s heavy._

_“I got him a new set of boxing gloves,” Buck says, “and some tools he wants. What do you wanna get him?”_

_He can almost hear Chris scrunching his face up in concentration. “Something artsy,” he says._

_Pepa – who has Chris’s crutches – smiles at Buck. “It seems you’re going to be doing an art project today, mi amor,” she teases._

_“Sounds great to me,” Buck says cheerfully._

_“Hey Buck?”_

_“Yeah?” Chris has his hands on Buck’s head, playing with the edges of the baseball cap he’s wearing._

_“How’d you get tall?”_

_“I ate all my veggies,” Buck says immediately, seeing an opportunity to avoid the “but I hate broccoli” argument. “And sometimes I work out with your dad.”_

_“Can I work out with you and Dad?” Sneaky kid, deliberately missing the part about the vegetables. “Sometimes I do supermans.”_

_“That’s cause you are Superman,” Buck teases, just to hear the kid laugh. “You can work out with us. It sounds fun.”_

_Christopher spots something he’s interested in not long after that and goes to look with abuela. Buck sits down on a bench seat with Pepa, smiling as he watches Chris from the store window._

_“You’re a good man, Buck,” Pepa says, patting his knee._

_“Hmm?”_

_“What you do for Eddie and Christopher – you’re a good man. Your parents should be proud.”_

_It’s a bittersweet feeling, to be told that. His mom was when she was alive – but she died so long ago now that Buck doesn’t really remember her voice, and he only knows her face from photographs and the angles of his own mirror. His dad… his dad was never gonna be proud, no matter what he did._

_His dad is his shadow. Sometimes it feels like that shadow will never go away – Buck will live with his father’s secrets for a lifetime, even if Eddie is digging deeper and deeper in working them out. Eddie’s not content to let him suffer the way Matt was or Abby was oblivious to. Eddie wants more for him. Sometimes, that’s scary. Buck’s not sure he can measure up. He wants to – he wants to because Eddie looks at peace when he smiles at Buck, hasn’t looked hunted for a while, and Chris clings to Buck like Buck is one half of the reason he feels safe in this world._

_Chris holds onto Buck the way he would his own father. The way Buck’s father never let Buck hold onto him. He has to be better – not even for himself, anymore. But for them. He might not think he’s up to the task – but they do._

_“Thanks, Josephine,” he says softly._

~*~

The pier is sunny and the day is warm but not hot – Chris is ecstatic in the back seat of Buck’s car, almost bouncing in his seat.

There’s a lot to get through. Buck is excited in the same little-kid way Chris is, the way that makes Eddie laugh and look at him fondly with his eyes sparkling – only Eddie isn’t there to temper it today, so it’s just Buck and Chris, running wild through the games and the concession stands. Buck takes pictures – a selfie of them at the water gun range; more of them trying all kinds of different foods. He’s sure he’s blowing up Eddie’s phone and he’s sure Eddie doesn’t care in the slightest.

“Alright, kiddo,” he says, putting his hands over Chris’s on the water gun range. “You’re playing for all the marbles, here.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want the marbles. I want the bear.”

Buck laughs, weirdly grateful that Chris hasn’t reached the point that stuffed animals are lame. He wants to keep it like that, just a little longer – wants to watch Chris go to sleep with Chompy and Dragon stuffed under his arms, wants Chris to give them to him and Eddie when they’re sick or sad because he thinks it’ll make it better.

They win the bear, which is almost bigger than Christopher. They try to take it on a ride – Chris just reaches the height requirement, but Buck is too tall, which is some bullshit if he ever heard it. They find a different one, and Buck revels in Chris’s weight pressed against his side, the way his giggles reverberate through Buck’s own body.

When it gets too busy, they head right to the end of the pier, where Chris wants to stand on the seat and watch the waves. Buck lets him, fisting his hand into the back of Chris’s shirt to stop him falling, and watches the people passing them by. There’s guys from the 136 helping someone on the pier – Buck watches, wondering if he knows any of them.

“You ever wonder what you wanna do with your life?” he asks Chris. “What you wanna be when you grow up?”

“Astronaut or pirate,” Chris says, without even a second thought.

Buck nods, smiles. “Those are some pretty solid choices, kiddo. And cool outfits, too.”

“No, wait,” Chris grins, looking down at him. “A firefighter! Like you and Dad.”

Buck thinks about it. He didn’t always want to be a firefighter. He wanted to help people – thought SEALs was the way to go, for a while, until he realized the brutality that would be involved in it. Backpacking through South America hadn’t helped him any, but eventually he’d returned to California, rudderless and missing his sister and mom more than he ever had before, and had to do something. Change was painful, but the idea of wasting his life moreso.

The truck bombing nearly tore that away from him – and then the embolism. Even now, he can feel phantom pain in his leg, digs the fingers of his free hand into his knee where he knows the scars are, still bright white and new. Eddie’s never looked at them like they’re ugly, and Buck supposes that was never his problem with them – they’re just a visual reminder of his brush with death. Of nearly losing everything.

Eddie told him once that it’s a sign he survived. That his scars are reminders of what he’s overcome. But Buck knows Eddie doesn’t feel the same way about his gunshot scars.

“Hey, look,” he says, after a moment. “Chris, if those career paths don’t work out… I hope you find something you love, and you’re good at. Something that makes you feel like you matter, and you can do it forever.” He shakes his head; maybe he won’t even be around for that. He wants to think that he and Eddie will last, he does, but nothing in life is guaranteed. He wants to see Chris succeed, find a career, figure out who he is. “I hope I can be there for it, buddy. Because when you do… it’ll tell you who you are. Shape the rest of your life. It’s the best feeling.”

Chris turns to him. “Are you sad, Buck?” he asks.

Buck smiles weakly. He supposes he is, a little, and it’s not something he can work out – he shouldn’t be. He has his job back. He has Eddie. But sometimes the past weighs him down, and it always sneaks up on him when he’s least expecting that. “Nah,” he says. “I just hope I’m there for it. I hope that whatever it is you find, you get to keep it.”

Chris’s hand comes down to his face, fingers brushing his jaw and his stubble. Buck looks up at him.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Chris says seriously.

He will be, he knows that – because he can’t see a world in which he’d give up, really. There’s too much here for him – too many people who he knows need him, even if he feels like a burden on them sometimes.

He blinks, staring past Christopher. He can’t see the boat that was moored there earlier in the day – or hear the waves, he realizes. He turns slowly, keeping his grip tight on Chris’s shirt.

“Buck?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly.

“Where did all the water go?”

“What?” He’s still processing the missing boat and the lack of sound, even as he casts his eyes further to the horizon, to the line that should divide the sky and the water.

He stares out across the horizon for a moment – it takes him a few seconds to comprehend what he’s seeing, that when he looks down the poles of the pier are wet and visible, that he can see the murky blackish sand that forms the seabed on a normal day.

Then he looks further, and finally sees the water.

Ocean receding, his brain recites to him factually. A warning sign of an impending tsunami. The further you have to look for water, the more danger you’re in. And now that he thinks about it – he hasn’t heard birds or wildlife here all day.

“Buck?” Chris asks.

He grabs Chris with no further thought and turns tail. “Run!” he screams to the people on the pier. “Get away from the water!”

They’re moving – too slowly – and every single one of Buck’s nerve endings is on fire with some kind of primitive, dormant terror – the kind that informs you of an immediate risk to your life, the kind that infuses you with the ability to do superhuman things to escape danger.

“Run!” he yells again, and, distantly, hears the wail of a warning siren in the background. He turns to look over his shoulder – the water is surging in, they’re never going to make it off the pier-

He beelines for one of the food stalls, made of wood and affixed to the pier itself, hoping beyond reason that it might actually protect Chris from the worst of the water. He’s just managed to get Chris over before he turns again.

The water is on them. The water is fucking on top of them and it’s only been a few seconds, and he has a few more moments of screaming terror before he vaults the counter himself to join Chris-

The water hits him like a truck, and he knows what that feels like. The water hits him and he can’t breathe or see or think – his chest cavity screams with agony at the sudden lack of air and the impact of the wave, and he’s tumbling, panicking, unable to tell up from down, helpless to figure out how far the tide has swept him. He’s running out of air, and his vision is getting black-

He breaks the surface of the water, gasping, reaches up and manages to grab a cable strung above his head. “Christopher!” he screams, garbled. “Chris – Christopher!”

“Buck!”

If he’d thought hearing Chris cry about his mom was bad, this is worse. Chris’s terrified wail cuts right through him, sends another jolt of adrenaline coursing through his body as he searches the waves wildly-

Chris is clinging to a pole that hasn’t been toppled, both hands, his mouth open as he struggles to stay above the water. He’s smart enough to not reach for Buck, not with the water going the way it is, but Buck knows he can’t hang on like that forever – Chris can hardly manage buttons most days, he just doesn’t have the motor skills or the strength to hang on for much longer.

“Chris!” he yells. “Just stay there, okay, just stay there, I’m coming for you-”

Against all reason, he lets go of the cable. The water takes him immediately, and the only thing that keeps him afloat and with his head above water is his SEAL training.

“Stay there, Chris!” he yells.

“I can’t hang on!”

He’s getting closer, stretches his hand out. “Reach, Chris!” he half-gasps, half-shouts. “Grab my hand-”

“Buck! Buck-”

They miss by an inch, a cry of frustration leaving Buck’s lips – and then Chris lets go, his head disappearing underwater, and Buck surges forward – please let him be okay, please – and, in the sand-filled, icy water, manages to grab a few fistfuls of material.

He surfaces again, Chris in his arms, hauls him up close so that the kid’s head is well and truly above water. “I got you,” he sobs, clinging with both hands. “I got you, I got you-”

They’re floating, adrift, Chris’s tiny fingernails digging into his neck. Buck’s head goes under again and he comes up gasping, paddling with one hand, lungs burning from the strain and water almost definitely in them. He wants nothing more than to rest and catch his breath, but they can’t paddle like this forever-

A firetruck looms ahead, and Buck strikes out, legs and arms screaming with agony and exertion, manages to catch something floating nearby. He crawls along the side of it with his free arm, swallowing mouthfuls of saltwater as he goes under – again and again – until he reaches the front of it.

There’s a jetski barreling towards them when he looks up, and he’s got a few scant seconds to use the remainder of his strength to haul Christopher on top of the truck – and then he ducks, beneath the surface, hoping that the worst of it misses him.

He hears it scrape past. Comes up for air, gasping, edges of his vision black. He’s gripping parts of the truck and trying to haul himself up next to Chris, feels a little hand on his shoulder – Chris, trying to grab him. Trying to help him.

Finally, he’s lying on his stomach, coughs up whatever water he can from his lungs and flings an arm out to grab at Chris, at his yellow shirt. He’s never letting his kid go again, not ever, not when this can happen.

He breathes, for a moment, and then looks up. There’s water for as far as he can see, houses and businesses just barely peeking out from the surface, streets entirely obliterated. His face fucking stings, smarts like he’s cut and bleeding, but there’s no time for him to worry about it at the moment – he needs to get them safer, somehow, needs to get them rescued.

“Chris,” he breathes. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” His little voice wobbles, but doesn’t break. “You saved me.”

Thank God. Thank God he did.

~*~

_He wakes up, disoriented and in pain._

_His brain works sluggishly, and peeling his eyes open feels like a monumental task. When he eventually does, he swings his gaze around wildly – the room is filled with shadows, and a low, rhythmic beeping fills his ears._

_His throat hurts. There’s something stuck in the back of his hand. When he goes to move, his leg gives a warning jolt – he can’t move, even if he wants to._

_“Hey, hey, shh.”_

_He turns his head._

_Even in the darkness of the room, he makes out Eddie’s shape. He’s sitting near Buck’s bed, hands on the arm of the chair as he drags it closer. When he comes into a spot of light, Buck registers, blurrily, how tired he looks – how worried._

_“Eddie?” he mumbles thickly._

_“Hang on.” Eddie stands up. “I’m gonna find you some water.”_

_He’s still uneasy – still doesn’t know where he is or why – but Eddie is here, so things will be fine. He tries to relax until he hears a door open again, and then close, and then Eddie is back, holding a Styrofoam cup and a spoon._

_“Ice,” he explains gently. “Clear up your throat.”_

_Buck accepts the ice chips sleepily, relieved when they soothe his throat and don’t make him feel sick. He’s somewhere that’s not-home for a reason, but he’s finding that reason hard to pinpoint right now – and Eddie, Eddie’s feeding him ice chips, so…_

_“Where am I?” he asks, voice weak and rasping._

_“You’re in hospital.” Eddie sits back. “Recovery ward. Do you remember why?”_

_He searches his memory. His leg hurts._

_“Hardware,” he croaks, then clears his throat. Eddie gives him more ice chips. “Hardware removal surgery. My leg.”_

_“That’s it.” Eddie gives him another spoonful of ice. “You were out a lot longer than the docs expected you would be. You feeling okay?”_

_“Tired. My leg hurts.”_

_“It hurts?” Eddie’s frowning. “How bad?”_

_“Mmm. Four. Four out of ten.”_

_“I’ll get the doc to give you something. They said you were pretty dosed up, but they weren’t expecting you to be out this long.” Eddie strokes his hair, thumbs gently at his pulse. “Came through surgery just fine, though. All the screws are out.”_

_“They are?”_

_“Yep. All four of them.”_

_Buck squints. Eddie really does look exhausted – there’s bags under his eyes and he’s got stubble going, and his hair is a little limp like he’s run his hands through it a few too many times._

_“What time is it?” Buck mumbles._

_“I don’t know. Morning ish.” Eddie looks around. “You’re the only one awake in here. You’ve slept through everyone else being admitted.”_

_“Oh.” He racks his brains. “Long time? Was I out a long time?”_

_“They thought you’d wake up after a couple of hours,” Eddie admits. “It’s been five or so.”_

_That explains the worry. “Sorry,” Buck says blearily. “Pain meds?”_

_“Yeah, I’ll get the nurse.”_

_The nurse is as unobtrusive as she can be – she takes his vitals and temperature, then checks the wounds. His leg isn’t propped up, but it’s been left uncovered by the blankets, probably for easy access. He recognizes the dark shadows of the hospital’s recovery ward now – he really has been out for a while._

_He knows she’s given him the drugs when he starts feeling foggy again, and the pain ekes out like water from a punctured boat. “Eddie?”_

_“Yeah, I’m still here.”_

_“Thanks. Thank you. For staying.”_

_“Of course. You can come home tomorrow. Just want to make sure you rest until then. Doc said the first few days can be bumpy.” His hand is in Buck’s hair again. “Does it still hurt?”_

_“Hmm, no.” Buck blinks groggily; he doesn’t want to go back to sleep, but he doesn’t have a lot of choice. “How’re you here?”_

_“I bribed the nurse,” Eddie says, deadpan, and Buck can’t work out if he’s joking but he laughs anyway, a little, and Eddie smiles like he’s relieved he did. “Get some more rest, okay? You’ll be out of here before you know it.”_

_“I love you,” Buck sighs, grabbing for Eddie’s other hand. “Love you so much.”_

_“Yeah. I love you too, Buck.”_

~*~

“You good, Chris?”

He’s dragged them to a well in the side of the truck, has Chris’s body bundled up right next to his own, holding the kid’s head close. He’s done with feeling terrified, for now – now, he’s just sore and tired, body devastated by its short encounter with a natural disaster.

“Yep,” Chris says. “I took swimming lessons.”

“Yeah,” Buck laughs weakly. “I remember, I was there. Best in the class, kiddo. Maybe you can teach me someday.” He straightens, a little, runs a hand over Chris’s head. “I’m gonna check out what I can see.”

He pulls away – only enough to kneel a little, muscles screaming from just that effort – and looks around. The water hasn’t stopped flowing, and there seems to be more debris in it now – maybe from people’s houses, but it’s hard to be sure.

“We’re gonna have to hang out here for a while, buddy,” he sighs.

“We have a firetruck,” Chris replies, almost smug, with a little grin on his face.

“Yeah we do,” Buck pants, hanging his head for a moment – just to clear the blackness threatening to encroach on it again.

“Help!”

There’s someone else in the water. He stands properly, turns, sees a woman waving to him frantically – she’s clinging to the side of a building, but she can’t stay there forever, not with the water the way it is.

“I’m gonna come get you!” he yells back, then turns to Chris. “Uh, Chris – I really need you to stay right here, okay, buddy? That lady needs my help. She’s in trouble.”

“Okay,” Chris says, nodding determinedly.

“Right here? Promise?”

“Promise.”

There’s a ladder on the firetruck he can use to cross over to one of the cars, and the hose, which hasn’t become detached in the swell. The ladder is rickety – balancing was never Buck’s strong suit – but he makes it across before using the open windows of the car and a nearby tree to get some leverage.

It’s slow going. Too slow going. His next step means climbing up the windshield of another car, with his hose length rapidly shortening.

“Help,” another voice says.

There’s a man in the car he’s using as a pit stop, staring up at him with wide, devastated eyes. Buck leans his weight on the roof.

“I know,” he pants. “I know, and I’m gonna come back for you, okay? I promise you.”

He has to jump into the water – it feels like every part of his body screams in revolt at that – and makes it across to a tree, ties off the hose, and turns.

“I need you to let go!” he calls.

The woman trusts him, lets go, and grabs his hand when she reaches him. They scale back along the length of rope, until they reach the engine, and Buck immediately rejoins Chris.

“Buck,” Chris says, pointing. “Buck.”

He turns around.

There are more people floating towards them, all of them crying for help. Some are swimming, but most of them seem to be floating, tugged along by the current and by exhaustion.

“Will you watch him?” he gasps to the woman.

She nods, breathless, climbs over to sit next to Chris. Buck takes one look out at the water – and dives in again.

~*~

_It’s not often that he and Eddie switch their bedroom roles, but sometimes they do. Like tonight._

_Buck’s watched Eddie’s shoulders get heavier and heavier with the weight of everything he’s carrying – Christopher and the legal battle with Shannon, Ricky, his attempts to get into the LAFD, Buck’s numerous and seemingly never-ending health problems. He’s watched Eddie deal with all of it, and he never complains, never even speaks up – he just grits his jaw and gets on with it._

_Buck’s sure it’s a military thing. Or maybe it’s an Eddie thing. Maybe it was an Eddie thing reinforced by the military thing. But he’s been around for a while, now, and he feels a sense of responsibility to Eddie and Chris the likes of which he’s only ever felt for Maddie before – they’re his people, and he’d die for them if he had to, just quietly._

_Of course, sometimes dying isn’t the hard part. Sometimes the hard part is getting out of bed every day. Eddie’s having one of those days, today, where he’s quiet and his eyes look faraway, and Buck felt him shuddering awake through nightmares last night. The only thing he could do was hold Eddie close and tell him he was safe, try to coax him away from his memories._

_Sometimes, he thinks Eddie doesn’t want to be coaxed. That scares him most of all – that for whatever reason, Eddie might choose the torture of his memories over anything else._

_He’s three weeks into his recovery from having all the screws pulled out of his bones. Sometimes he aches, and he feels almost afraid that his leg will suddenly crumble beneath his weight with the screws gone – but he’s trying. There’s therapy around it, about what it might mean to finally live pain-free and what’s important to him, and so many fucking doctor’s appointments. Eddie comes to every single one, even if his eyes are bruised with how tired he is and he’s been up since four at the fire academy._

_They haven’t been intimate, not really. They haven’t been able – Eddie’s tired and Buck’s been in pain more days than he hasn’t been, but Eddie needs – he needs something, needs to take a load off. Eddie’s a man of actions, and Buck knows it’ll take more than a few well-meant words to get through to him._

_He undresses Eddie slowly, in the bedroom. Forces him to slow down when he tries to rush it, undoes every button and zipper like it means something, and Eddie lets him – acquiesces to the pace sometime around Buck getting a hand on his belt, and they don’t need to talk. He folds Eddie down onto the mattress and reaches over for the lube and says, “I just wanna take care of you, Eddie,” and Eddie lets him._

_He focusses on relaxing Eddie’s body, on just making him feel good, holds Eddie’s narrow hips in his hands and thinks to himself don’t break him as he takes Eddie’s shaft into his mouth. When Eddie’s hands fist into his hair and pull, he goes almost drunk from it, thinks it isn’t fair that Eddie knows every single one of his weak points and then some._

_It’s not often that Eddie does this so Buck goes slow, uses one finger and then two until he can hear Eddie’s breath whooshing out of his lungs like he’s been punched, until he’s got Eddie’s hips moving in his hands. It’s gratifying to be able to get Eddie to let go like this – he’s so regimented, normally, so tightly controlled. He doesn’t have to be anymore, and Buck needs him to know that. That if Eddie falls, Buck is his safety net._

_“Come up here,” Eddie’s voice says from above him. “I want all of you.”_

_Something in Buck’s chest swoops even if he knows Eddie meant physically. Or maybe he didn’t, and it was meant exactly the way Buck read it, but either way, he kisses a trail up the plane of Eddie’s stomach until he reaches his mouth. Eddie’s hands loosen on his hair, and one snakes down to stroke him._

_Buck tucks his face against Eddie’s neck, bites down on the moan. Eddie’s hands feel so fucking good but it’s supposed to be about him, not Buck._

_“Buck,” Eddie murmurs, stroking again, and God, Buck’s only human – his hips make an aborted movement. “C’mon. I want you to.”_

_There’s no resistance when he pushes into Eddie’s body, just Eddie’s head tipping back and his fingernails dragging down the flesh on Buck’s back. He likes the scratching even more than he likes the hair pulling, and he starts moving, slow, until Eddie’s legs lock around him and pull him in deeper._

_For a moment, there’s nothing. Nothing except the slide of their bodies and Eddie’s heart against his, so close that in that moment, Buck loses sense of where he ends and Eddie begins – he couldn’t separate himself if he was paid, if someone was pointing a gun at his head. He moves and Eddie’s panting, Eddie’s moaning and he’s never really heard that before, not like this, and he swallows the noise with a kiss._

_“I’m gonna come,” Eddie gasps against him, and Buck plants one elbow on the bed, levering himself up enough to watch as he drives the last few thrusts home and Eddie comes, untouched, on his stomach, chest heaving once before collapsing inwards like there’s no room for air in it. Buck tangles his other hand in Eddie’s hair, nibbles on his lower lip, picks up a bit of speed._

_“Come on, Buck,” Eddie breathes against his neck. “I wanna feel you come.”_

_He’s bossy even on the bottom, but it does the trick – Buck’s orgasm hits him like a truck, and if he had it in him he’d probably be embarrassed about the fact that he whimpers and almost sobs as he releases into the condom, grasping at whatever parts of Eddie he can get to – his shoulders, his hips, the sinew of his thighs. He feels the pricks of Eddie’s fingernails in his back, almost hopes it leaves marks, and finally, finally settles, wrung out, spent._

_Eddie’s arms wrap around him after a moment. He’s warm and Buck’s sweat is cooling and leaving him shivering. He should get up – get off Eddie and find something to clean them both up with – but he doesn’t want to move._

_“Holy shit, Buck,” Eddie breathes. “That was…”_

_Buck somehow has it in him to blush. He levers himself up on both elbows again, and his cock gives a half-hearted twitch inside Eddie’s body, like it would really, really love to be interested again._

_“I love you,” he says quietly. “I just wanted you to know.”_

_Eddie pulls him in by the back of the neck and kisses him. “Te amo,” he whispers back, and Buck’s belly swoops like it’s the first time he’s heard it. “Yo te quiero más, Buck.”_

_I love you more, Buck translates, because he’s been learning a little Spanish from Pepa and abuela. He wants to know what Eddie whispers to him in the dark, where dawn seems impossibly far away and Buck’s only coping method is the tight space in the bathroom and the tiles beneath him._

_He rests his forehead against Eddie’s, working a lock of brown hair around his finger, and closes his eyes. He never thought that he could feel love without pain – not after Matt, not after Abby – but it turns out it just wasn’t the right person, the right time. Maybe it wasn’t even the right version of Buck._

_“I’m gonna get something to clean us up,” he murmurs, and leaves Eddie with a soft kiss._

~*~

“I spy with my little eye… something that moves people around.”

Chris giggles, fists over his mouth. “Bucky,” he says, “that’s not how you play!”

“What?” Buck asks, summoning as much mock outrage as possible. “It’s not?”

Their makeshift raft has a host of people on it, now, and no one else looking for help – at the moment, anyway. Buck’s rejoined them, thirsty and aching and still terrified down to the pulp of his bones – but Chris is okay, and if Buck isn’t, well, that doesn’t matter.

“No,” Chris laughs. “You have to pick a letter!”

“Okay,” Buck bargains, “but you have to guess mine first.”

“Umm…” Chris’s face lights up as he scans the water. “A scooter?”

“Good job! Okay, genius, your turn.”

“I spy with my little eye… a shopping cart.”

“What!” Chris is already giggling. “Hey, you said I don’t know how the game works – I know it definitely doesn’t work like that! You can’t just yell stuff out!”

“But yelling stuff out is the fun part!”

He takes a moment, looks at Chris – at his glasses that are fogging up and his wet clothes that Buck would give his working leg to replace with dry ones – and says, “You amaze me, buddy.”

“Why?”

“You never give up.” He shakes his head. “When I got hurt, I didn’t wanna get out of bed… ever.” It’s hard to admit, even now – how dark that time was, how much he prayed for everything to be a nightmare. “But you… you’re here with me, laughing, playing games… you never gave up. That water came and you just held on, and you never gave up. You never say no, you never complain. How do you do it?”

“I just kept swimming,” Chris says, grinning.

“Like Dory?”

“Like Dory.” There’s a pause. “How did you get up?”

“Hmm?”

“Your leg was hurt.” Chris’s clumsy fingers play over his knee, over where the scarring is. “Daddy said it was hurt really bad. And then you went to hospital and when you came back it hurt more.”

The hardware removal surgery. Buck remembers that all too well – the drugs made him sick coming out of anesthesia and he’d hurt so badly the first day he’d vomited at one point, wondered if it was really worth having all these procedures done for the sake of his job. He hadn’t wanted Chris to know how badly he was hurting, but obviously he failed on that count.

“I guess it was because people need me,” Buck says softly.

Chris blinks up at him. “I need you,” he says, melting Buck’s heart a little. “Daddy needs you. I’m glad your leg is okay.”

“So am I, buddy.”

“Look,” a man’s voice says.

Buck turns around, eyeing the water, ready to jump in if he has to. What he sees instead is a pair of shoes – attached to legs – attached to-

His stomach drops through him, and he recognizes his brain beginning to immediately divorce itself from reality. His firefighter half is trained for this, somewhat, trained to put the trauma aside for the sake of continuing, but right now he’s not in his uniform and there’s nothing he can do. The division is harder without the uniform.

“Um,” he says, and turns to grab Chris under the arms, puts him on the lip of the truck. “I spy with my little eye something way up high.” He holds Chris’s neck, to stop him from turning his head, and points over his other shoulder.

“Like a street sign?”

“No, way higher than that. Right up there.” He points higher, ignoring the devastated looks of the first woman he rescued, trying not to see the bodies floating past – too late to be saved, probably right from the get go, but Buck feels it and the guilt all the same. If he’d jumped into the water sooner, been at a different spot on the pier…

“Up higher, buddy,” he hears himself say. “Way up high. Like a bird.”

~*~

_Eddie worries about him limping._

_It gets worse during cold snaps, that’s all, and he doesn’t want to think about how bad it would be if he lived in a snowy area. Christmas time is bad, though – he’s off work for a while and not moving as much, and the limp worsens._

_He wonders what it would’ve been like to have Eddie at his side when he was healing from surgery. Or during the embolism. Eddie’s a no-nonsense kinda guy, probably wouldn’t have entertained Buck’s pity party for more than a few days, but he also wouldn’t have left – not like Ali did._

_Eddie does give him massages, though. When he notices Buck limping, there’s always a few moments where Eddie’s eyes assess – his gait and then his face – trying to work out how serious it is, how much Buck is hiding. Then it’s to the couch, with the deep heat and Eddie settled between his legs._

_“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he always says, and then digs his mean little fingers right into the sorest spots. On bad days, it feels like knives, like torture, and on the not-so-bad days Buck frets about the scars and how Eddie sees them._

_He doesn’t like looking at them, that’s for sure. They just remind him of a really dark year – one that only really started to get better when he met Eddie and Chris, who folded him into their little family like he belonged, even when things were supposed to be fake._

_“Hey.”_

_Buck blinks, looks up. Eddie’s smiling at him softly._

_“Am I losing you?” he teases gently, and Buck realizes his eyes were closed – he was drifting. Eddie’s fingers are working at his hip, now, and he’s using his other hand to tilt Buck’s body slightly. His hands are strong, flexible – just having them on his skin soothes Buck enough to drift off midway through a massage._

_“Sorry,” Buck yawns._

_“S’alright. Still hurt?”_

_It does, but not nearly as much, and he says so. “Not as much now.”_

_“Good.” Eddie moves his hands. “Mind if I work your knee over as well, maybe your ankle?”_

_That’s where the scars are, predominantly – Buck shifts uneasily, and Eddie watches him. He’s silent long enough that Eddie says, “You can tell me no, Buck.”_

_“I uh…” He tests his leg; it still hurts, and he winces, and Eddie’s hands are there right away, supporting its weight as he shifts it back. “Yeah, okay.”_

_“Sure?”_

_“Mmhm.”_

_Even if Buck is self-conscious about the scars, Eddie’s hands on him feel like heaven, and the pain leeches away so suddenly that he sinks back into the couch, not exactly sure of what’s up or down anymore. He feels Eddie dragging a blanket over him, a hand in his hair – he must be done with the deep heat, and nothing hurts._

_He needs the hardware removal surgery. He knows he does. The idea of being laid up and in pain for six weeks frustrates him – he’s spent more time in hospitals than out of them, it feels like – but the idea of living like this for the rest of his life, with phantom aches and the threat of embolisms imminent, is worse. He’s twenty-seven and he doesn’t want to stay on blood thinners forever, or need checkups to make sure the bolts in his bones haven’t drifted or impacted or gotten infected._

_“Hmm, Eddie?” he asks, drifting back into consciousness._

_“I’m right here, Buck.”_

_“Looking forward to Christmas?”_

_He hear Eddie snort. “You woke up just to ask me that?”_

_Buck peels his eyes open. Eddie’s sitting near his head, his hand draped over Buck’s chest. Buck smiles sleepily._

_“S’ important.”_

_Eddie nods, still looking at the TV. His thumb strokes Buck’s collarbone for a moment, a movement that makes Buck feel fuzzy and warm. Eddie and Chris turn him to mush, and he’s not ashamed of that._

_“You know what my favourite thing about Christmas is?” Eddie asks. “Watching you and Chris with the mall Santa. And the gingerbread houses we made a few days ago. Seeing Chris excited because you’re staying with us. Christmas is… it’s nice, but it’s just a day. It’s everything else I love.”_

_Buck doesn’t know it yet, but Eddie’s about to give him a key. Eddie’s about to let Buck into his space as Buck pleases – into his life as Buck pleases._

_Buck thinks that if this is his reward for all the shit he’s endured throughout his life – well, he’d do it all over again. Without questions or reservations – knowing that at the end of it, Chris and Eddie are waiting to welcome him home._

~*~

The bodies have left everyone rattled.

Nobody is talking anymore. Buck’s expertise is in saving people – he’s not a cop, not military, and he’s not going to make decisions for anyone else on their little life raft. Now, he and Chris are sitting, backs to the water, his arm around Christopher as they wait for rescue.

Eddie’s working. For the first time since the wave hit, Buck spares him a though – regrets it almost immediately, because his whole body aches with the need to be close, every fibre of his being yearning for the man he knows can comfort them both. Eddie has saved him time and time again – from Matt, from his father, from himself – and there’s small, childlike part of Buck that is tired of being the adult, tired of being the saviour, and just wants his boyfriend to come and rescue him instead. Or, even better, rescue Chris – Buck would sit here for the rest of the year if it meant getting Christopher out of here.

Eddie’s working, which means at some point he’s going to come across them and Buck is going to have to explain this – that they’re on the pier, that Chris nearly drowned… he’s going to have to explain it and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the disappointment in Eddie’s face, or worse, the anger. He fucked up and put Chris in danger and now…

“I don’t know what I’m gonna tell Eddie,” he sighs to Chris. “I mean I… I took you out this one time, and… look what happens.”

“You saved me,” Chris points out, causing Buck to look at him. “And you saved them.”

Buck swallows the lump in his throat. He’s not sure Chris is right, exactly, about that first part – Chris is in trouble because of him – but maybe the second part… maybe he can be okay with that.

“No, we did that together,” he says. “We make a great team. I’m so proud of you, buddy. High five.”

Chris high fives him, then grabs at him in a hug, his little hand resting somewhere in the vicinity of Buck’s bruised ribs. He hugs Chris back – gives himself a moment to stroke an errant, damp curl near his ear.

“I love you, Buck,” Chris says.

“I love you too, Chris.”

And then he looks up. Sees the water coming back in, feels the shocks, hears a scream as someone falls overboard. His blood runs cold, again, and he grabs Chris, hangs on for dear life.

“Hang on!” he yells. “Everybody hang on, get down-”

It happens in a second. Someone cries out for help and he turns to grab them, catches them by the hand – there’s another shock – and he hears a splash, a small splash, consistent with a kid falling into the water. The only kid on the boat.

He’s blind, for a moment, can’t see, can’t hear, can’t feel. Knows he’s yelling, knows he’s frantic, but doesn’t comprehend. He’s an animal in the jaws of death, nothing in the eyes of God, every bit of intelligence wiped from him in white-hot panic.

“Christopher!” he screams. “Chris – Christopher – Christopher-!”

Without thinking – without feeling – he jumps back into the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't @ me y'all know i'm evil


	31. Night One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, okay, here it is. i've been so so excited to release this chapter, you guys have no idea.
> 
> trigger warnings - the tsunami, mentions of death and dead people, overall terrible mental health. i can't think of much else but maybe avoid if natural disasters bother you.
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com

The tsunami hits without warning and without mercy.

Eddie’s barely five hours into a sixteen hour shift, and when he thinks back to it, it’s all just snippets. People drowning. People crying out for their loved ones. Thinking back he sees – a ferris wheel, people trapped, faces white with fear – an elderly man drowning on a boat that somehow survived the crest of the wave – people trapped on the pier – a little boy, probably Chris’s age, drowning where he sits from water in his lungs.

Eddie saves the elderly man and the little boy. He doesn’t manage to save many other people. His brain has blocked it out – it’s a coping mechanism, almost identical to the one he had in the military. There’s a division between Eddie the person and Eddie the firefighter, the man who wears the uniform. When things like this happen – when things off the scale of measurable grief and trauma happen – he becomes the uniform. The division saves him, and others, lets him box everything up in a rattle-proof box for later, lets him function.

The problem is the “for later” part. He already dreads taking his uniform off. He dreads having to let go of the weight of his kit and the circle of his fire family. He dreads becoming Eddie the person again – who has to deal with all the things Eddie the firefighter isn’t allowed to.

The problem with the division, Eddie’s learned, is when the paths between Eddie the person and Eddie the firefighter meet. The problem with the division is that Eddie the firefighter is running the show – he’s burned through and out but still standing because people need him to, and that’s one hell of a thing to keep you on your feet when it matter – but Eddie the firefighter catches sight of Buck, and that’s when Eddie the person comes to the table.

Buck’s filthy. That’s what he notices first. Buck’s filthy and bloody – he’s scratched and cut all over his arms and face, and while he’s standing, it’s only by virtue of the fact that he’s clinging to a makeshift IV stand in the relief camp that’s been set up near ground zero.

“Buck?” he breathes, striding forward. “Buck, cariño, are you okay?”

“Eddie-”

There’s no little person with him. No shadow, no bright smile yelling “Daddy!” up at him.

“Buck, where’s Chris?” he hears himself ask, and Buck makes this noise like he’s choking – for a moment, Eddie flashes to the little boy, drowning standing up. Drowning on dry land. He thinks – not again; Buck survived the truck bombing and an embolism and Matt coming back and stabbing him and bringing him a hair’s breadth from death; he can’t drown on dry land.

Then he releases Buck is crying, and that Chris’s glasses are hanging around his neck. His ears ring, and he tries to take a breath in – God, he didn’t even know they were on the pier, didn’t make the connection between Buck’s photos and the location, they’ve been out here this whole time and he’s been saving total strangers-

“Why do you have his glasses?” he asks faintly.

“Eddie, I tried.” Buck’s voice is thin and trembling – he sounds about twelve, trying to explain something to a disapproving adult. “I tried and the water – and he fell in and Eddie, I tried, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Eddie drifts. He can hear what Buck’s telling him, but he doesn’t understand it – Buck has Chris’s glasses and he’s made his way to the relief camp with is three miles in from the pier so where’s Chris? Buck wouldn’t have given up looking for him-

There’s movement over Buck’s shoulder, and Eddie blinks. It’s a red hoodie, not a yellow shirt like the one Chris was wearing – but he’d recognise the set of the legs anywhere, the awkward way the woman has to carry him.

“Chris?” he breathes.

“Eddie, I-”

“Christopher?” he yells, letting Buck go.

“Dad!”

He doesn’t recall crossing over to get to Christopher, just knows he has Chris in his arms, that he’s running his hands over his kid to look for cuts or broken bones. Chris is – clinging to him, and he smells like saltwater but he’s fine. He’s alright.

“You must be Buck,” the woman says.

“What?” Eddie’s still pawing over Chris’s face, checking him out – but he’s uninjured, miraculously, not even a scratch on his face to suggest he’s been in the floods. “No, I’m Eddie, I’m his father.”

“He was looking for Buck,” she explains warmly.

He turns around to look towards Buck – in time to see a relieved smile on his face, and then his knees cave and he’s going down. It takes the entire rest of the 118 to catch him and guide him into a seated position, Bobby bearing most of the weight, but Buck doesn’t take his eyes off them.

It’s been a thirty-hour ordeal. The sun has set and it’s – Eddie doesn’t know what time it is. He doesn’t even know the date anymore. He only knows that Buck has been awake for that thirty hours and then some, has collapsed with exhaustion, and is using whatever minute energy reserves he has left to keep his eyes on Eddie and Chris.

"Buck saved me," Chris whimpers.

"What?" Eddie asks, getting them to the ground where it's less awkward for Chris. "What was that, mijo?"

"Buck saved me," Chris sniffles. "We were in the water and I couldn’t hold on and Buck saw me and he saved me. He saved a bunch of people. I got lost, Dad. And Bucky got back in the water, but I couldn’t swim.”

Buck got back into torrential flood water to save his kid. Buck jumped back in just like Eddie would have to rescue his kid.

Eddie would have, and so Buck did too.

~*~

Buck's shivering.

The night has gotten cool, especially with the water continuing to sit around, and Buck's clothes are still wet. Chris, at least, has a dry, if somewhat oversized hoodie.

Eddie doesn't have to make the awkward request of Bobby to stay with his little family. Bobby takes him off-duty immediately, and Eddie is left with the task of sitting with Chris and Buck.

Back in his arms, Chris has fallen asleep. Buck is still leaning on Hen when Eddie approaches, his eyes closed. Eddie can see how rapidly he's breathing with the rise and fall of Hen's hand, which is braced on his ribcage to keep him upright. Buck's got his head in the crook of her shoulder and arm.

"How is he?" Eddie asks, his voice breaking. He can still see the trauma in Buck’s eyes as he’d tried to explain to Eddie what had happened – how distraught he was, how much he blamed himself for what a natural disaster caused. Buck’s not even looking at him, now, even though there’s no way he’s asleep by the way he’s breathing. Hiding, as best he can, and that breaks Eddie’s heart.

She looks worried. Buck is still the baby of the 118, even with Eddie's addition to the team, and it shows. "He's got some pretty nasty cuts," she whispers back. "We're organising transport for him and Chris."

Buck's clutching Hen's arm with one hand. Around his wrist is a blood-soaked bandage of some kind. It looks dirty, like an infection waiting to happen.

"We'll treat it when we get him to hospital," Hen says.

"We can't wait that long." A hospital could be hours away if they can’t get an ambulance; Eddie sets Chris down gently on the cot, next to Buck, where they're both within eyesight. "We need to at least clean it or he's gonna end up with a nasty infection."

With that, he reaches out to touch the makeshift bandage. Buck pulls his arm back a little.

"Buck, it's just me," Eddie says softly. "I just wanna take a look at that cut."

Buck blinks his eyes open wearily. "Eddie?" he mumbles. Maybe he was asleep – or maybe just drifting. If it’s been a long day for Eddie, he can only imagine what Buck is going through right now.

"Yeah, it's me." He wants to reach out and touch – to smooth Buck’s wet hair back, to assess the cuts all over him, to find him something clean and dry to get into – but he’s not honestly sure it would be welcome right about now.

"Chris?"

"He's right next to you. Can I look at your arm?"

Buck gives it up, allows Eddie to unwrap the blood-soaked material around his lower arm and wrist. When he does, he finds it still bleeding – sluggishly – and filled with dirt and debris. It’s an infection waiting to happen, and that’s the last thing Buck needs.

"We need to seal this," he says to Hen.

"I'll go find a kit." She begins to stand, testing to see if Buck can remain upright on his own. He does, even if he does sway a little with the motion. He meets Eddie's eyes foggily.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"For what?" Eddie asks, but Buck shakes his head and won't answer. Eddie keeps his wrist elevated until Hen gets back, and Eddie begins to clean. Chris has his head pillowed right next to Buck’s leg, and he’s clinging to the hem of Buck’s t-shirt with one hand. They’re both safe, Eddie tells himself as he cleans out the wound. They’re both okay.

Buck hisses with the first contact of antiseptic to the wound, which is good - lack of reaction to pain would mean shock for sure.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes meeting Eddie’s. There’s this horrible expression in them, this “why are you hurting me” kind of devastation that Eddie had never, ever wanted to put there – intentionally or not.

“I have to seal this,” Eddie says quietly. “You’re bleeding badly and the cut might get infected.”

Buck shakes his head woozily. “Chris,” he says, and begins to try and stand up. He doesn’t have the strength, and his knees fold, leaving him on the edge of the cot. “I have to find Chris.”

Eddie’s gut lurches. “Hey,” he says, and finally gives into the urge to take Buck’s face gently in his hands. “Buck. Buck, look at me.”

Buck meets his eyes, but his own blue ones are clouded, confused. It’s hard to tell if it’s exhaustion, or shock, or genuine delirium – but either way, Eddie says, “Chris is right next to you. You saved him, remember?”

Hen reappears – with a gurney. “We’ve got an ambulance waiting for him,” she murmurs to Eddie. “Just need to get him strapped in. Cap’s clearing you of duty so you can go with Chris. The camp emergency doctors have checked him out – said he’s fine.”

Eddie’s torn. Chris needs to get home and rest, and be bathed and comforted and fed and maybe wrapped in bubble wrap and locked in a tower where nothing can hurt him. But Buck’s hurting too, injured and bordering on delirium and probably also starved and thirsty.

“Eddie,” Hen says gently. “He’s not going to be alone. Maddie’s going to meet us at the hospital.”

“Take Chris home,” Buck mumbles blearily. “Please?”

Buck’s blessing only makes things marginally easier. He stays while Buck is loaded onto the gurney, covered in a blanket, strapped in, and has monitors attached to him. They all promptly start beeping shrilly – his vitals are off, Eddie notes worriedly, but not in the danger zone.

“Eddie,” Hen says, too gentle. “Go home, baby. Look. He’s already asleep. Get Chris settled, then you can see him.”

It’s true, Buck is asleep, and he doesn’t look like he’s waking up anytime soon. They’ve attached an IV to him – something that didn’t even get a twitch from him – and he’s being loaded into the ambulance as they speak.

“Eddie,” Hen says, again, but firmer this time. He almost shakes himself out of his stupor. “Buck would want you to go with Chris. You know he would.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.” But he does what he’s always done – he pulls himself upright, seals off the trauma in a nice, dark, rattle-proof box, flexes his torso all the way through to his hips – it’s life-affirming for him, to feel the subtle shift of his muscles, the reminder that he’s alive enough to help his loved ones. “Yeah. Okay. You’ll keep me updated?”

“I promise, baby.”

~*~

“Daddy?”

Eddie shifts. Chris’s hand is patting lightly at his thigh.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Where’s Buck?”

Eddie swallows. They’re home – and Chris is cleaner than he’s probably ever been and fed and has had juice and basically whatever he wants, has even slept some. He’d been terrifyingly quiet, not asking about Buck at all – Eddie wonders now if his poor kid was too shocked to realise Buck wasn’t there anymore.

“He’s at hospital, pal,” Eddie says.

“Hospital?” Chris’s eyes well up. “Is he dying?”

“What?” Eddie splutters. “No – no, mijo, he’s not dying. He’s uh – he’s resting. That’s all.”

“Why can’t he rest here?”

Eddie swallows again, a few times. His throat works – it’s parched. He hasn’t really taken care of himself yet, even though he knows he’ll need to before he goes to pick up Buck. His boys will need him fighting fit.

“Well,” he says, “he got hurt a bit. He was bleeding. So the doctors just want to make sure he’s okay, right? They’ll probably run some tests. And then he can come home and rest here.”

As if on cue, his phone rings. It’s Maddie. Of course.

“He’s fine,” she says, as soon as Eddie answers. He can hear the sounds of the hospital in the background – it sounds busier than usual. “He’s asleep. They said he can have another visitor – but they don’t know when they’ll release him.”

“Okay.” Eddie rubs his face; he doesn’t even know how long it’s been since he brought Chris home. “They’re discharging him soon though?”

“Seems like they’re getting ready to.”

“That’s fast.”

“They’re pushing people through as quick as they can.” He hears her take a deep breath. “There’s a lot of people here who are really hurt, Eddie. Evan got lucky.”

It doesn’t feel lucky. Chris wants to come with him – but Eddie can’t justify dragging him out there when he might not even be allowed in, and so he calls in reinforcements in the form of abuela. By the time she gets there, Chris has already fallen back into a fitful sleep.

“I’m only gonna be gone long enough to get him,” Eddie stresses as he throws some of Buck’s things into a duffel bag. He saw the state of his clothes at the pier. “Then I’ll be back-”

“Try not to worry, mi amor,” she says gently. “Take care of your novio and I’ll stay with Christopher.”

The drive to the hospital is a long one. He doesn’t know what state he’ll find Buck in, if he’s going to be clearly traumatised or more injured than Eddie expected or numb. He’s not sure which would be worse for him. He can act on physical ailments – ease pain and fever – but there’s not a lot he can do for the inside stuff. The brain stuff, where it matters.

Buck is in the emergency department, not a private room. Nobody spares a glance at Eddie – the wards are full and the hallways are overflowing. No matter where he turns, people are crying. He’s never seen the aftermath of a natural disaster before – or anything, really. Emergency response is just that – the band-aid, the quick-fix. It’s never the therapy afterwards, or the mourning.

No wonder they’re going to move Buck on as quickly as they can. He’s young and relatively healthy since getting his hardware removed and going off blood thinners. Someone else will need the bed. Eddie’s frankly shocked he got one.

Maddie sees him and waves wearily from her spot. The curtain is mostly drawn, and despite the noise, Buck is sleeping – he doesn’t wake, even when Eddie approaches quietly and hugs Maddie tightly.

“How’s he doing?” Eddie whispers, pulling away from her.

Maddie’s lips purse unhappily. “Low grade fever,” she murmurs back. “Probably because of the cuts all over him. He’s not eating or drinking anything but the doctors – don’t seem surprised, so…”

“Has he been awake at all?” Eddie asks worriedly.

“He’s been in and out. Never stays awake for long.” She smiles. “He’s not saying much, but I think he’s been looking for you.”

There’s bandages on the cuts on Buck’s face, holding the skin together, and his arm has been carefully wrapped. Eddie sits down slowly, wishing more than anything that he could’ve been here the whole time and feeling torn – between his boyfriend and his son.

“He wanted you to be with Chris,” Maddie says gently, in that unerring Buckley way of knowing how he’s feeling. “He’s slept, Eddie. That’s it. They want to do some tests, but I told them to let him rest first. I thought you’d want to be here.”

Eddie eyes the IV snaking into the back of Buck’s hand. “What’s he on?”

“Antibiotics – they’re not sure if the fever is just because he’s crashing or because he’s got an infection,” she says. “Fluids to replace what he lost. They gave him something to help him sleep.” She stands up. “Coffee?” she asks kindly.

“Please.”

Maddie leaves them there, and Eddie sighs as he settles in, takes Buck’s good hand in his own. He looks comfortable – he’s sleeping on his side, legs askew, blanket tangled loosely around his waist, and he’s in hospital pyjamas rather than a gown. That’s good – it means he’s moving on his own enough to go to the bathroom.

“Hey, querido,” Eddie mumbles, blinking slowly at Buck’s face. “Brought you some clothes. I’ll spring you soon.” He leans over, uses his other hand to card through Buck’s hair gently, then feel his cheeks and forehead.

He worries at his lip. Buck’s warm – low grade fever, sure, but it feels like it might be trying to climb even with intravenous antibiotics. He’ll have to keep an eye on that.

Buck stirs, raises a hand to grab his wrist. “Huh?” he mumbles groggily.

“Shh,” Eddie says, pushing the hand down gently – it’s got a needle in it, after all. “Just me, cariño. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

Buck blinks his eyes open with what looks like Herculean effort. “Eddie,” he rasps. “Chris?”

“He’s fine, Buck. He’s with abuela. He wants to see you, but I just… I wanted to see you alone first, that’s all.”

He’s a little startled when Buck starts trying to sit up, clearly disoriented. “Eddie,” he croaks. “Eddie, I didn’t – I can’t – I tried so hard, you have to believe me-”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, moving from the chair to the edge of the bed. “What are you talking about?”

“I lost him.” Buck’s eyes are swimming with tears. “I lost him, Eddie, he was there and then he fell into the water and-”

“Buck, you saved him,” Eddie says firmly, twisting so he can take Buck’s face in his hands and head off the panic attack before it sets in. “You saved him. If he’d been out there with anyone else…”

Buck blinks. The tears spill over, but his breathing calms.

“Just relax,” Eddie murmurs. “I came alone because I wanted to make sure you were up for visitors, if you’re not allowed to leave yet.”

Buck nods, swallows. “Do you know?” he asks. “If I can leave?”

“I only just got here. Maddie’s gone to get coffee. You’re on an IV, though. Probably a few more hours.” He’s tempted to look at Buck’s chart, but he’d probably just worry more. “Besides, you’ve been awake for thirty hours now, or more. You need to rest.”

Buck shifts uneasily. “I’ll rest when I see Chris,” he mumbles.

But there’s tests to be done before that. A scan to ensure there’s no water in Buck’s lungs, x-rays to check his collarbone – which has come up in a livid, swollen bruise so bad it looks like a fracture – and cognitive testing. Eddie argues that’s hardly fair with how foggy Buck must be feeling, but it goes ahead anyway.

And then – finally – Buck is allowed to go home. Eddie’s brought him clean clothes, but Buck hasn’t been allowed to shower yet – or maybe he hasn’t had the strength to – and all they do is keep him temporarily warm as they head home.

Abuela is waiting for them, looking worried, and Buck stops to give her a tired hug before beelining to the bathroom. The fan goes on, and Eddie realises Buck is about to be sick about a split second before he actually is.

“Chris is sleeping,” abuela says softly. “You go sit with Buck.”

To his credit, Buck doesn’t flinch when Eddie enters, and there’s hardly anything in the toilet bowl – he didn’t eat or drink at the hospital, he remembers Maddie saying. Maybe he’s felt nauseous for a while and hasn’t said so. Maybe he’s just in shock.

Eddie sits for a moment, until he’s sure Buck’s done dry heaving, and then goes to retrieve some Pedialyte from the fridge. Buck hates the stuff, but he needs something if he’s going to keep getting sick.

“Here,” Eddie says softly, getting close enough to rub Buck’s back. “Can you drink some of this?”

Buck takes the glass wearily, sips, spits, and then take a few small swallows. “What time is it?” he rasps.

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t – it’s all blurred together lately. “Doesn’t matter. None of us are going anywhere tomorrow.”

They sit quietly for a moment. Buck’s drinking the Pedialyte steadily, and it seems to be staying down. Eddie reaches up, flushes the toilet, and waits for Buck to be done before saying, “Teeth time?”

“S’what you say to Chris.” But Buck stumbles upright wearily and joins Eddie in brushing his teeth. His eyes are half-closed, and he lists a little in the mirror. Eddie watches him like a hawk. He’s already seen Buck collapse once today.

Buck spits into the sink and straightens, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He makes a face – that’s when Eddie registers that he’s still covered in grime. Buck had been one of the best off out of everyone. It’s a miracle he even got triaged and sent home in as timely a fashion as he did.

"Let's get you clean," Eddie says quietly.

It’s a process. Buck’s in clean clothes but he’s sore - t's easy enough to get Buck out of his shirt, but he stumbles a little when Eddie helps him peel his jeans off. He's bruised and scraped in areas that Eddie had no idea about, and he looks like he's been through a warzone, but he gets under the spray of the shower and Eddie climbs in with him.

"Eds," Buck protests, "I-"

"Hey, I need a shower too," Eddie says lightly. "Come here. Let me wash your hair."

He washes Buck's hair carefully, avoiding the area of his face that is slashed and bruised, and soaps him up before rinsing him down. Buck doesn't react much beyond twitching when Eddie touches something that hurts, and that's - so unlike him that Eddie wants to cry.

They get out of the shower, and Buck sits on the toilet seat while Eddie retrieves them some clothes. Abuela has left – there’s a note on the counter; Eddie will read it later – probably to give them space to heal together.

"Here," he murmurs, and passes the clothes off to Buck. He towels Buck's hair dry before starting on his own, then they head to the bedroom, where Buck tumbles into bed and curls the duvet around his battered, bruised body like a shield.

Eddie goes to get more Pedialyte - partially to rehydrate him, and partially to stop him from vomiting in the night. He kneels down at Buck's bedside and touches his shoulder, waits for the other man to blink his eyes open before saying, "Drink?"

Buck grimaces. "Do I have to?"

"Come on," Eddie murmurs, putting the straw near Buck's mouth. "C'mon, Buck. You've been puking, you need to have something."

Buck's hand curls around the edge of the duvet. "What is it?" he croaks.

"Pedialyte." When Buck grimaces again, Eddie presses on, "I know you hate the stuff, but I really want to get you rehydrated and get some electrolytes into you before you sleep or you're gonna cramp up and feel worse."

The prospect of feeling worse seems to tip Buck over the edge; he shuffles forward a little and takes the straw in his mouth, raising his head a little to drink slowly. To his credit, Eddie doesn't have to push him - he drinks until the glass is empty.

"Good," Eddie says, exhausted, and stands up, knees creaking.

"You should drink something too," Buck rasps, voice weak from - well, whatever it is he's been doing all day. Screaming, probably, but Eddie doesn't want to think about that.

"Okay, cariño. I will."

He takes the glass to the kitchen, drinks some water himself, and then pauses on the way back to the bedroom. His feet take him to Chris's door, and before he really thinks about what he's doing, he's scooping his kid out of bed and carrying him back to his own room.

He tries not to do this. But they need each other tonight, all of them.

Buck is still awake when he enters, somehow. He looks up when he sees Eddie and his face breaks open at the sight of Chris, who's only roused himself enough to cling to Eddie's neck sleepily. "Chris," he croaks.

"Yeah. I thought-"

Buck reaches, and Eddie climbs into bed carefully, depositing Chris between them. Chris shuffles awkwardly until he’s got his face buried in Buck’s chest – and Buck curls around him, every part of his posture screaming his need to protect him.

Eddie’s breath stalls. There’s no doubt about it. Buck would’ve sacrificed his life to save Chris, without thought or question – almost did, by jumping back into torrential floodwater. He’s just as much Chris’s parent as Eddie is.

Eddie climbs in next to them, pulls the covers up. Buck’s begun to shiver – it’s not cold in the room, not even close, but he’s hunched down like he’s trying to stave off the elements.

Eddie wraps his arms around both of them, presses a kiss to Buck’s head. He feels the tension bleed out of him – the way his muscles slacken as if finally registering Eddie’s presence, and he closes his eyes properly, instead of squinching them shut.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Eddie,” he croaks.

Eddie kisses him again. Temple, this time, gentle with the cuts there. “I love you,” he replies. “Get some sleep, okay? It’ll feel better in the morning.”

~*~

He wakes in the middle of the night to Chris flailing and calling out for Buck.

It takes him a moment to get with it - he's exhausted and his body is screaming after working thirty hours straight, begging for rest, and even his mind is reluctant to come back online and deal with anything. Everyone he works with has a line, and he's reached his, apparently.

Reaching his line doesn't stop him being terrified for his kid, though, and he's never heard Chris this afraid. His stomach is in knots and his heart is pounding as he reaches out, beginning to get closer, saying, "Chris, Chris, it's okay, it's-"

And then Buck's arm rises from the sheets, tucks around Christopher's flailing, gasping body, and pulls him in close. Buck, who's buried himself in a mound of blankets and had appeared to be trying to get smothered by them when they went to sleep, who had been awake for God knows how long when Eddie finally got to them, who's bruised and cut and undoubtedly twice as exhausted as Eddie is.

Buck, who's showing no resentment or annoyance for having been woken by his kid in the throes of a nightmare, pulls Christopher in close and squeezes him to his chest and says, "It's okay, buddy, I'm here. I've got you. It's just a nightmare."

"Buck?" Christopher's voice wobbles.

"Yeah, I'm here. It's okay, I'm here."

"I'm cold."

"Hmm, yeah, it's kinda cold out." It's not, but they're both shaking like it is - maybe getting woken up frightened Buck just as much as it did Eddie. He watches, breathless, as Buck lifts his head a little - it looks like it costs him every bit of energy he has - and searches blearily for a blanket that's been kicked off as they slept. "Here. This'll keep you warm."

"Are we safe?" Chris whimpers. Buck is tucking the blanket around him clumsily, like he's not awake enough to coordinate properly.

"We sure are." Buck lets his head flop back down - he looks like shit, and he's so clearly beyond the end of his rope it's not funny, but he's still taking care of Christopher. "We're in your dad's bed, remember?"

It's like Buck himself doesn't remember it until he says it, because he looks around and spots Eddie watching them. He reaches over to grab at Eddie's t-shirt, and Eddie slides in, close enough to wrap both of them in his arms.

"Yeah," Chris's voice says, small.

"You need anything, mijo?" Eddie asks quietly.

"No," Chris sniffles, tucking himself closer to both of them.

"Buck?" Eddie asks.

Buck doesn't even verbally reply, just shakes his head tiredly. He blinks in that way he does when he's exhausted, but trying to stay awake.

"Okay," Eddie murmurs, noting that Chris has stopped crying. "Let's get some more rest, then."

This is night one. Night one is fear. Night one is Chris waking up twice from nightmares and being soothed back into sleep by Buck, who never fails to open his eyes. Night one is Buck jolting awake at three in the morning with a whimper that turns into a bitten-off sob; he goes to the bathroom and doesn’t come back for half an hour, face white and hands trembling.

Night one is Eddie, clutching his little family close, praying for the first time in a long time. It’s Eddie, holding Buck and Christopher and going through the five stages of grief, demanding to a god that he doesn’t believe in that they switch places, that he take it on for them, in their places.

This is night one.

~*~

Night one ends when Chris wakes up at eight in the morning, a little subdued but otherwise shockingly fine, and asks to watch cartoons.

Eddie lets him, because the kid just survived a natural disaster, and maybe watching cartoons first thing in the morning isn’t that bad for him. He goes with Chris – stops briefly to look at Buck, who’s curled on his side like his whole body hurts, even in sleep, his eyes shadowed black with fatigue.

He can’t even tell if Buck’s sleeping. If he is, it isn’t restful. Buck’s clearly not adapting as well to what happened as Chris is – but then, maybe Buck saw more. And Buck – Buck understands, maybe more than Chris does.

Does he even want to know what Buck witnessed out there?

He’s sure that it’ll happen with Chris eventually. Kids process differently than adults and Eddie’s not about to go poking and prying and making things worse. He’ll get his kid into therapy pre-emptively and then there’s a plan and then – and then what? What about Buck? He can’t force Buck into therapy.

“Nieto!”

He hurries to the door. It’s abuela, smiling, if a little strained. She looks pleased when Christopher hugs her tightly, and kisses Eddie on the cheek.

“I came to check on you,” she says, patting his face gently. “Where’s that lovely novio of yours, hmm?”

“He’s in bed.” Some of the strain must show on his face, because her expression falls a little bit. “He’s asleep. I – I don’t really want to wake him up.”

“Don’t wake him, then,” she soothes. “Let him rest. I thought I might spend some time with this one today.”

She pushes Chris’s curls away from his head. He’s watching them both talk about Buck, almost apprehensively – God, Eddie sometimes wishes he didn’t have such a perceptive kid. It might make his life easier. Now, he looks worried.

“Is Buck okay?” he asks.

“Buck’s just really really tired,” Eddie says – for all he knows, that’s true. He’ll have to check Buck’s temperature again at some point, make sure it’s at least holding even. “He’ll probably sleep lots today.”

“Okay.” Chris seems satisfied with that. “Can I go with abuelita?”

“Go with her?” Eddie asks.

“To her house.” Chris pouts. “To see Spot?”

Spot is abuela’s imaginatively-named toy poodle. It’s a tiny, nervous wreck, but it loves Chris and Chris loves him. Being around an animal might even be good for him – but Eddie’s loathe to let the kid out of his sight.

“He’ll be fine, Eddie,” abuela says gently. “We’ll make tamales. Save you and Buck some.”

“You don’t have to go, mijo,” Eddie says softly.

“I know, Dad.” Chris smiles; it looks almost normal. “But abuelita said she’d make tamales.”

Tamales. Of course. They’re Chris’s favourite food – bar the mac and cheese Buck makes him on Friday nights, the version that has little hot-dog octopuses in it. And it’s not that Eddie isn’t grateful that Chris is responding well – he is. He just doesn’t feel like letting his kid out of his sight for a while, okay?

“Eddie,” abuela says gently. “He’ll be around the corner if anything happens.”

“I’ll even call you at dinner,” Chris bargains. He really wants to go, Eddie realises. Maybe he’s grown up a little – maybe Eddie’s desire to return to the norm so quickly after a life-altering event is rubbing off on him.

“Okay,” he relents.

Chris almost cheers as he goes off to get his backpack. Abuela smiles at him.

“He’ll be fine, Eddie.”

“I know.” He worries at his lip anyway. “If there’s anything-”

“I promise.” She pauses. “I thought – this might give you time. To book him some appointments. He might… need to talk to someone.”

His family still speaks about therapy in tongues, a lot of them time. They don’t get it and don’t want to – even when Eddie came back from Afghanistan, shell-shocked and clearly not himself and not even capable of pretending, they didn’t want to believe that anything was wrong, that he might need the dreaded therapy they all clutched their pearls about. Sometimes, he still resents them for it. If he’d had more support, things might have turned out differently, and the sound of a car backfiring or fireworks on New Years Eve might not trigger a flashback.

“Therapy, you mean,” he says, and sighs. “Yeah. I’ll book something in. Thanks, abuela.”

She kisses both his cheeks. “You look after that sweet novio of yours,” she says. “Or I’ll come back.”

“Sounds like a threat,” he says, but it draws a smile out of him, and he watches her leave with Chris a few minutes later – he can hear movement in the bedroom, a sure sign that Buck is awake.

Sure enough, when he enters the bedroom, Buck’s gotten out of bed. He’s taken his shirt off, and he’s inspecting his injuries with a sort of blank detachment in the mirror. Concrete is at his ankles, purring loudly.

“Good thing you’re not on blood thinners anymore,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck nods, turns back to him. For a moment, they look at each other – it feels like Buck is a thousand miles away, not even really in the room with him, and Eddie can’t even pinpoint why.

“We’re pretty much out of food,” he says, for lack of anything else to say. “I’m gonna go to the grocery store.” He needs to do. Sitting and being isn’t enough – he needs to be doing something.

“Can I come?” Buck asks.

Eddie blinks, but Buck isn’t backing down. “You… want to?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah.” Buck gives himself a little shake, like he’s trying to wake up properly. “I uh – I think I need to get out of the house. Or something. So – so can I come? I’ll stay here if you want me to.”

That sounds dangerously like a concession Buck might’ve once made to Matt, and if he’s thinking about Matt and applying his behaviour to Eddie’s, then he’s slipping a little bit. Eddie knows him well enough by now to know that. “Sure,” he says. “I’d like the company.”

~*~

Buck is downright dazed at the grocery store, and he stays close to Eddie.

It’s not like he isn’t functional – he is. He picks things from the shelves and reads ingredient lists and vetoes things that would be bad for Christopher. He picks up enough stuff to make them dinner. But he’s walking like he’s half-asleep, even as his eyes are wired open, and the longer they’re there, the more worried Eddie gets.

Other people, he notes, are in similar states of shock. The store hasn’t been hit by the tsunami, but the people clearly have – some shelves have been wiped clean, and he sees one woman break down when they don’t have the specific brand of honey she usually buys.

“I feel weird,” Buck admits as they head to the checkouts.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He just wants to get Buck home now, his need for normalcy be damned. “It’s been a weird forty-eight hours.”

Buck nods along mechanically. He’s staring at a posterboard of missing person flyers. Eddie steers him away from it, surprised when he meets resistance.

“C’mon,” he coaxes.

“I might know some of them,” Buck protests weakly – but he follows along. Eddie ruminates on that – that Buck feels like he might know some of them. How, he doesn’t know. Everyone should’ve been reunited with their families now, right? Isn’t that how things work?

Maybe they don’t. It’s not like he’s experienced a natural disaster before. Maybe there’s a lag, like the gap between experiencing something and feeling it. The lag affects all of them – but Eddie worst of all, aside from Bobby.

When they get back into the car, Buck rubs his eyes tiredly and leans his head back on the seat. His hands are shaking – Eddie leans across and feels Buck’s forehead with the back of his hand, cussing himself out for forgetting to take his temperature earlier.

He’s warm. Not overly, but warm enough to suggest he hasn’t really kicked the infection yet. Or – whatever it is. His immune system could be crashing from the stress. It could just be a cold.

“Let’s go home,” Eddie says softly. “You’re shaking.”

“I haven’t eaten anything since the pier,” Buck admits. “Probably should.”

The pier was – how long ago now? Eddie doesn’t know – more than a day, for sure, and Buck’s not small enough to get away with not eating. Now that Eddie thinks about it, he didn’t eat at the hospital or before bed or before they left the house.

“I’ll make us sandwiches,” he promises. “You wanna sleep on the way back?”

Buck fidgets. “Can we listen to the radio?”

It’s a pretty innocent request, even if Eddie would really rather Buck sleep. Turns out, he doesn’t have to worry – he puts the radio on, and Buck’s out less than five minutes into the drive.

He has to wake Buck when they get home, and Buck doesn’t remember where they are at first, until he takes in the mailbox he helped Christopher paint while he was on crutches. Then he staggers inside with Eddie – stands at the counter and insists on helping Eddie make sandwiches.

Eddie knows what this is. This is the relentless need to keep busy. This is Buck’s lizard brain, totally in control of him, insisting to him that as long as he keeps moving, he’ll be fine. Eddie knows as well as Buck does that he needs to confront the pain – but sometimes, you just aren’t ready.

“Sit down and eat,” he says gently.

Buck polishes off the sandwich ravenously, so Eddie makes him another one, and a smoothie. He’s so grateful Buck’s eating he could cry – the first thing to go when Buck’s not tracking well is his appetite, and if he’s eating, it means he’s coping. In some strange way, he’s dealing with it. Even if Eddie is on a need-to-know basis.

They settle on the couch. Eddie falls asleep with Buck’s head in his lap, and when he wakes up, Buck’s gone – in the kitchen, with a duffel bag sitting on the counter. The same one Eddie packed him for the hospital, in fact.

Eddie rises slowly, feeling a creeping panic coming on. Buck, emotional strain and duffel bag cannot equal anything good.

“Where’re you going?” he asks quietly, entering the kitchen.

Buck turns to him. His eyes look almost dark – they’re stormy in a way Eddie’s never seen them before, clouded, like Buck’s not capable of thinking or seeing straight.

“I was gonna stay with Maddie,” Buck says, and his voice cracks a little – fear, Eddie recognises. “I just uh – I don’t know that it’s – it’s good for Chris if I’m around.”

Eddie reels, then flounders, trying to find the words that will stop Buck from leaving. “Buck,” he pleads. “Chris – every time he’s woken up, he’s wanted _you_ , querido.”

Buck rubs his eyes. It’s the action of a tired child taken by a weary adult, and Eddie wants so badly to fold Buck into his arms and never let him go. To keep him safe – for as long as he can, anyway.

“If you need some time,” he says, before considering the words, “if you – if this is about you struggling, and you needing time, that’s – that’s okay. Dealing with your own problems, and dealing with Chris’s, I get it-”

“It’s not that,” Buck croaks. “Chris makes it feel better. So do you.”

“So why go to Maddie’s?” Eddie asks. “Do you need her here? I can call her and get her to come over. She would.”

“It’s just – it’s like I said,” Buck says. “I don’t think it’s good for Chris to be around me. I – I let him down, so…”

“You saved him.”

Buck gnaws at his lip. He’s uncharacteristically withdrawn, looking like he wants to go almost as much as he looks like he wants to stay. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not for his own benefit – this is home, and Eddie knows he’d rather be here.

He takes Buck’s moment of weakness and rolls with it. “Will you stay here with us?” he asks desperately. “Please?”

Buck turns to him, and Eddie’s a little startled to see the anguish on his face – the glittering of his big blue eyes that suggests there’s a flood of tears about to start.

“You want me here?” Buck asks. “After everything that happened?”

Eddie gets this swooping feeling in his stomach like he’s missed a stair and is about to fall – he’s missed something, something important, something Buck has evidently kept bottled up for a while now. “A natural disaster happened, Buck-”

“ _I lost him_ , Eddie,” Buck croaks.

“No, you saved him,” Eddie says, stepping closer. “That’s how he remembers it.”

“I was-” Buck’s hands flex on the countertop, and he takes a step back, widening the gulf between them. Eddie wants nothing more than to close the gap, but he knows that whatever Buck is fighting right now, he needs to be the one to do it – right now, he’s convinced Eddie is angry and that means letting Buck protect his space, even if it hurts. “I was supposed to look out for him, you trusted me to look out for him, he trusted me to-”

“What, and you think you failed?” Eddie asks, interrupting him. “I’ve failed that kid more times than I care to count.” His voice wobbles, a little, because it’s true – all the times he didn’t notice Chris miserable from being with Shannon, every time he stopped Chris from seeing Buck when they were fighting – every misstep is imprinted on his brain. “And I’m his father. But – I love him enough to never stop trying. And I _know_ you do too.”

Buck finally meets his eyes. His own are shadowed over, uncertain – he’s still blaming himself, and Eddie can feel it, even from here. He risks taking a step forward, and Buck doesn’t back away from him – in fact, his entire body sways forward, like he’s been waiting for Eddie to come closer all along.

Not afraid, then. At least not that Eddie’s angry. Afraid to want – afraid to seek comfort. He’s punishing himself, Eddie realises, for something he never, ever could’ve prevented or known about.

“Buck,” he whispers, and takes Buck’s neck in his hands, gently, slots his fingers in beneath the shells of Buck’s ears, uses his thumbs to stroke gently at his jaw. “There is _nobody_ in this world that I trust with my son more than you.”

Buck blinks rapidly, eyelashes fluttering, and a slow, shaky breath leaves his body – he slumps, like all his strings have been cut, and Eddie moves closer to hold him, presses a thumb into his lower back and the top of his spine, kisses his neck.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, right into Buck’s ear where he knows it can’t be missed. “For not giving up.”

~*~

Buck has expended more energy than he had to spare on a near emotional breakdown, so Eddie unpacks the duffel bag for him.

(Really, he just wants to make it harder for Buck to dig himself into a pit of self-loathing and fear and take off. At least this way Buck will be forced to think it through or come back for new clothes.)

When he’s finished putting everything away, he comes back to the living room. Buck’s sitting at the dining table, a mug of steaming tea in front of him, a notebook open and a pen in his hand. There’s writing on the page, but nothing Eddie can read.

“Hmm?” he mumbles when Eddie gets closer. Eddie realises he’s propped up on his hand, half-asleep where he’s sitting. He blinks sleepily at Eddie when Eddie takes his chin and turns his head a little, eyeing him sympathetically. Buck looks wrecked. He probably will for a while.

“Go nap on the couch,” Eddie says quietly. “You’re all good. You look exhausted.”

Buck pushes himself upright wearily, but before he departs for the living room, he stops to give Eddie a long, tight hug. He doesn’t say anything – but he doesn’t have to. Eddie gets the sentiment all the same.

He’s clearing up mugs quietly when he notices Buck’s notebook open on the table. He’s more surprised by the fact that it’s halfway finished than he is at its actual presence – and he goes over to close it – only to realise that the most recent writing has today’s date on it.

He shouldn’t read. It’s personal. But even as he stands there his eyes are gliding over the page gently, following Buck’s horrendous cursive.

_There are a lot of ways to be lost at sea._

_It’s not the same as being abandoned, or stranded. Those things happen beyond our control._

_Sometimes, we just take a wrong turn too close to the tide. The waters rise and sweep us away. We fight the currents for a way back, to dry land and solid ground. To each other. To tomorrow._

_Then we catch our breath and search the shore for everything we lost, and everything we loved, for our families, for our dreams and our futures, our friends and loved ones._

_For those who couldn’t swim._

_Sometimes being lost is not knowing how to get from where we are to where we want to be – where we need to be._

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, fingers flexing against the page. He had no idea Buck could write like this – that Buck wrote at all – and now he wonders how much else he might’ve missed. If Buck wrote everything down, all the good and the bad and the scary shit in between.

Then he sees it – ink, bleeding through from the next page over, letters backwards from this vantage point. This isn’t the last thing Buck wrote – he continued on to the next page. The indentations are visible, clear, letters a little more sprawled than the ones on the page he’s looking at.

He turns the page slowly, a little worried about what he might find.

It’s written after he’d sat down after trying to leave – that much is obvious from the broader letters and the different pen used, black gel ink where the previous page was written in blue pen. Everything about the sloping cursive suggests a bone-deep weariness – Buck wrote this last bit when he was exhausted, likely right before he curled up on the couch for a nap.

_A few choice words can sometimes be the life raft that gets you home. To be seen – to be found – isn’t that what we’re all searching for?_

“Daddy!”

Eddie blinks back the tears just in time to catch Chris, who careens into his legs excitedly. “Bucky’s awake!” he cries.

“Yep, he just needed to sleep in, that’s all.” Eddie scoops Chris up for a hug, holds him a little longer than he normally would. “He’s pretty tired though, mijo. Go easy on him.”

“I’ll read him a story,” Chris says decisively. “We should make him a snack.”

With that, he squirms free of Eddie’s arms and heads to the fridge, leaving Eddie looking into the living room. Abuela has gone to where Buck is lying on the couch – Eddie sees her touch Buck’s forehead, gently, before withdrawing and heading to the kitchen.

“His fever is gone,” she notes.

“He’s on antibiotics. Doc says he’ll be fine.” Physically, Eddie agrees. Psychologically, he wants Buck booked into therapy pronto. “He’s been sleeping a lot.”

“Ah, well, he went through a lot. Poor boy.” Abuela smiles at him. “You look tired, nieto.”

Eddie rubs his eyes. “Been a long few days, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you go be with tu amor?” she asks. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Abuela-”

“Your boyfriend saved Christopher,” she says. “And many others. The least I can do for the both of you is make sure you’re well fed.”

He kisses her on the cheek, recognising a lost battle when he sees it, and goes to the living room. Chris is sitting quietly in the armchair, darting glances at Buck’s sleeping body.

“Is he okay, Daddy?”

“Yeah, he’s just tired, buddy.” Eddie sits down in front of the couch, sideways, so he can watch Buck sleep. The scratches on his face look painful, and the bruising seems worse today – worse before it’s better, that’s the way it goes with bruising, and it’s not nearly as bad as it would’ve been had Buck still been on blood thinners, but still. “Hey, why don’t you go find a book and we can read to him? That’ll make him feel better. He loves it when you read to him.”

“Okay!”

Eddie waits until Chris is out of the room to stroke Buck’s neck gently, moving to sit on the edge of the couch. He mustn’t be sleeping deeply, because his eyes flicker open almost immediately.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “Sorry to wake you up. Abuela’s here.”

“She is?” Buck rolls onto his back, rubs his eyes gingerly. “What time is it?”

“About three. You slept through lunch.”

“Sorry.” Buck shrugs limply. “Just… don’t feel great.”

Eddie feels his neck and face, just to make sure abuela didn’t miss anything – as if she would – but Buck’s skin feels normal. “You feel okay,” he murmurs. “Pills making you sick?”

Buck shakes his head. “Just sore.”

“Your face looks bad.”

Buck mimes a stabbing motion to the chest. “Right here, Eddie. All you gotta do is twist it.” But he’s smiling, and it’s a relief to see him joking, even feebly, so Eddie smiles back.

“You up for snacks and stories?” he asks. “Chris has your whole afternoon planned.”

Buck stretches and yawns, sighs affectionately when Eddie rubs his chest a little. “I’m glad someone does,” he replies. “I’m not up for planning anything.”

Buck spends most of the day sleeping on the couch, only rousing when Eddie packs him off to a proper bed and feeds him his antibiotics. He’s clearly still tired, but restless – can’t get comfortable, can’t seem to switch off. When Eddie touches his shoulders, intending to rub them, they’re tight with stress.

“You’re home, Buck,” he says softly. “Easy. It’s okay. You’re home. Everyone’s safe.”

This is night two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's a reason i didn't touch on eddie's experiences of the tsunami too much in this chapter - i'm planning on exploring it in upcoming ones (chapter 33 onwards). trust me babes :)


	32. Rework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 9-1-1 day!
> 
> thanks for all the love on the past chapter! this one is pretty angsty, honestly, so please read the following **trigger warnings carefully: use of the word "cripple", mentions of child abuse, blatant mentions of suicide. don't read this chapter if any of these things are going to negatively impact your mental health!**
> 
> i'm building up to the next arc of the story, which is the "eddie hates feeling things and turns to street fighting to cope with his own trauma" arc. for those of you wondering when i'll touch on eddie's side of things - we're getting there. it needs a more believable setup than just letting it happen, otherwise it won't feel true to the character.
> 
> anyway - enjoy! as usual, i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com.

He’s counting, and the numbers are going up. Night one, night two, night three. Night four is a blessing and a curse – while Chris settled more on night two, Buck had awoken with nightmares whenever he’s tried to rest his head, and he seems unable to shake them off the way he usually would.

Night four, Buck’s so exhausted he doesn’t wake. He stirs a few times like he’s going to – but he’s running on the fumes of sleep, now, and his body finally relents and lets him rest.

The numbers are going up, but Eddie feels like he’s counting down. He’s counting in nightmares and broken sleep cycles and mugs of coffee consumed; he’s counting in Buck’s flinches from the sound of running water, in Chris’s aversion to bath time, which he’s always loved before.

Chris asks for help. Buck – normally more than willing to – shuts down entirely and takes up running. Relentlessly. Eddie’s sure he’s supposed to still be resting – but he doesn’t. Maybe he’s tired of rest. Maybe he’s outrunning the pain, or trying to. Whatever it is, Eddie can’t keep up with him. Buck’s running, and he’s running out of reach.

~*~

“Has she gotten back to you?”

Eddie startles at Buck’s voice. He’s in the kitchen, flipping desperately through a pile of paperwork they’ve accumulated in a ceramic bowl on the counter. It’s mostly bills, but Eddie was sure that at some point he put the business card of the firestation’s psychologist in here.

He’d left Buck sleeping. He’s due back at work in three days’ time, for a few light duties shifts to see how he acclimatises – and Eddie had wanted to let him rest, considering Buck rarely seems to sleep deeply these days. He’d thought Buck was down for good.

“Who?” he asks dumbly.

Buck raises a tired eyebrow. “Shannon.”

He’d tried to call her to let her know what happened with Chris, but she hasn’t gotten back to him, and he hasn’t been able to get through. He’s even driven to her apartment in a fit of desperation – the only thing he hasn’t done is call Ricky.

“No,” he says. “But that’s – Buck, aren’t you tired?”

“Mmhm,” Buck mumbles, rubbing his eyes blearily. “Is there coffee?”

“There is, but I’d rather you just go back to bed,” Eddie says, distressed. Buck’s stumbling through the kitchen like he’s forgotten its layout entirely. “Buck, dios, you’ve gotta get more than three hours’ sleep a night. This is going to kill you.”

“Not like I haven’t been trying,” Buck snaps.

Eddie blinks, more surprised than hurt. He’s never known Buck to snap, even when he’s tired, even when he’s hurt. That he is now… is not a good sign. Lack of sleep will do that to people.

“Sorry,” Buck whispers, shamefaced.

“It’s fine,” Eddie says hurriedly, approaching Buck before he can scoot away and pulling him into a hug. “I know. I know you’re tired.” He pulls away, rests his forehead on Buck’s – his skin is cool and clammy, like he’s slept with the fan on but got overheated anyway. “Tell me how to help you,” he murmurs.

He feels Buck shake his head. “I don’t know,” he rasps back. “Sorry. I don’t know. Nothing’s helping.”

“Sleep?” Eddie asks desperately. He wants to get rid of the shadows under Buck’s eyes – he thinks that maybe if Buck could just rest decently, he might be able to cope with the rest. He’s running on adrenaline’s fumes right now, and that’s not going to help anyone.

“I can’t.” Buck sounds guilty over that; he’s clinging to Eddie’s shirt, leaning into him, shivering a little. When Eddie touches his skin, he’s cold – even though it’s warm out. Definitely not getting enough sleep if he’s shaking the way he is.

“What if I stayed with you?” He’s clutching at straws now. “I mean – you always seem to sleep okay as long as I’m there, right? So why don’t I just stay with you?”

“You can’t stay in bed while I sleep.” Buck blinks his eyes open blearily. “You’ve got way more important shit-”

“I really don’t.” Eddie kisses him gently, trying to convince him. “C’mon, Buck. Be honest. Does it help you sleep when I’m there?”

Buck swallows. “Course it does,” he says tiredly. “I love you. I always feel safe with you.”

“Then we’ll sleep together,” he says softly, and tugs Buck towards the bedroom. “Let’s try.”

~*~

They do sleep. When Chris gets home from being out with Pepa, they sleep some more, all tangled up together in Eddie’s bed.

Eddie doesn’t sleep much. He’s not even sure if Chris does, or he’s just enjoying the cuddling – but Buck is definitely out to it, and Eddie’s breath is baited until they hit the three-hour mark and Buck remains still and calm.

“Daddy,” Chris whispers.

“Hmm?” Buck’s draped himself over Eddie’s chest – his head is right over Eddie’s heart, and if this is what it takes to get Buck some actual rest, he’ll do it every day.

“Can I play in my room?”

“Sure, buddy.”

Chris gives him a kiss on the cheek – and Buck one, as well. Buck barely even stirs, other than reflexively twitching his fingers in his sleep. Eddie’s never known him to sleep this deeply – it’s almost unnatural, more like the opiate-induced sleep he was experiencing in the first few nights after his hardware removal surgery.

“Daddy.”

He looks up. Chris is watching them from the doorway, chewing his lip the same way Buck does when he gets worried.

“What’s up, superman?” Eddie asks softly.

Chris wobbles over to him, sans crutches, with a few stuffed animals tucked under his arm. Eddie uses his free hand to pull him up, and Chris settles in against his other side. He looks down at Buck – still sleeping soundly – and then reaches out, pats Buck’s hair in an oddly protective gesture. Eddie’s throat tightens.

“Is Bucky okay?” he asks finally.

“Sure. He’s just tired, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Chris keeps patting Buck’s hair – there’s no reaction from Buck, other than a slow sigh as he continues to sleep. “Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I go back to school?”

“You want to?” Eddie asks slowly. “You know you don’t have to, mijo.”

“I know. But I miss my friends.” Chris is watching Buck sleep – he still seems concerned. It’s too much weight for his little shoulders, but Eddie can’t convince him not to try and bear it, and he knows that. “Maybe if I go back things will be better.”

“How do you mean?”

Chris shrugs. “Buck can’t sleep great,” he explains. “And I have nightmares. And maybe if I’m really tired I won’t.”

Eddie knows he has to go back to school sometime, but he doesn’t want Chris to do it if it means he’ll be stressed, or because he feels he has to. “You sure?” he asks. “You don’t have to. But if you want to go back… well, we can get that sorted, huh?”

Buck shifts, groans. Eddie smooths a hand down his back, and they’re both quiet until Buck settles again, his fingers twisted idly into Eddie’s shirt.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll call the school today.”

Chris almost beams. “Thank you, Dad,” he says, and leans over to hug Eddie around the neck tightly. “I’m gonna go draw Buck a picture.”

Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about the school thing – but if Chris wants to go back, who’s he to stop him? It’s not like he can’t pull Chris out if he gets worse.

“Brave kid,” Buck mumbles.

Eddie rubs his back again. “You were awake for that?”

“Mm. Some of it.”

“What do you think?”

“Same as you’re thinking.” Buck’s talking to Eddie’s stomach, which makes him a little hard to understand. “If he thinks he’s ready – let’s get him set up.”

“You aren’t nervous?” Eddie asks disbelievingly. “At all?”

“I’m a wreck every time he leaves my sight,” Buck mumbles tiredly. “Can’t let that impact his life. Or live like that forever.”

Eddie sighs. Buck drags himself up a little bit, resettles with his head on Eddie’s shoulder. He slides a hand up under Eddie’s shirt, lets his fingers splay out over his skin. Even a week ago, Eddie would’ve read it as a sexual thing – now, he just sees it as Buck trying to be close.

“Be nice though, wouldn’t it?” he asks wistfully. “Wrap him in cotton wool for the rest of his life, keep him close.”

“Then we would’ve failed him,” Buck yawns, and presses a warm kiss to Eddie’s shoulder. “But yeah. It’d be nice.”

~*~

So Chris is back at school the next day, and Buck sleeps in.

The sleeping seems to be getting easier. Eddie’s tried being quiet and Buck will wake up, pad out and look for him – if he’s clattering around in the kitchen or making some sort of normal noise in the house, Buck rests. Eddie wonders if subconsciously, Buck is comforted enough by him being close by. He’s not going to look the gift horse in the mouth either way.

For two long, strange hours, the house is quiet. Buck sleeps – Eddie looks in on him every so often, stifling a laugh at one point when he catches Buck in the act of dragging a pillow over his face to block out the light. The TV murmurs in the background. He even tries to work out how to make some sort of soup. After the chaos of the week, the heightened emotions, the lack of sleep – it’s weirdly domestic.

Then there’s a knock on the front door, and he opens it to the sight of a red-faced and furious Shannon, who immediately steps into his space. He opens his mouth to say something – but she beats him to it, the way she always seems to.

“When were you going to tell me?” Shannon yells, shoving his chest. “When were you going to fucking tell me my son was in a tsunami?”

He reels. He did tell her – or at least tried to, a good dozen times or more before he gave up and her phone stopped taking messages. “I called,” he says. “I went around-”

“I want to see him,” she demands.

“He’s at school.” His heart feels five times too big for his chest. He wasn’t expecting this when he opened the door. “You can come around later.”

“My son nearly dies in a fucking natural disaster and I can come around later?! When you didn’t even let me know he was-”

“I tried to call!” Eddie shouts back. His heart is thundering in his chest, a horse with a rope around its neck. “I tried to call a dozen times and you didn’t answer! We don’t talk unless you want something!”

“You should’ve brought him to me! Straight away-”

“Brought him to you?! I didn’t even know where you were! It was more important to get him home and safe than it was to drag him around to meet your selfish fucking needs!”

“Where was he?” she demands. “You were working. Where was he?”

Eddie says nothing. Shannon’s lips thin, her eyes livid.

“He was with Buck, wasn’t he?”

“Shannon-”

“You left my son with your fucking boy-toy and he nearly _died_!” She punctuates it with another shove to the chest, sending him back over the threshold. “You let that stupid asshole take him to the pier and he could’ve drowned-”

“Buck saved him! He’d be dead if it weren’t for Buck!”

“You let some meddling asshole take my son-”

“ _He’s my son too!_ ” Eddie bellows.

“I’m taking you to court for this,” she seethes. “I never should’ve let you parade around with Buck like this when Chris was at stake. You leave him with Buck once and he almost dies.”

“At least Buck didn’t slap him and call him a cripple,” Eddie says coldly. “Still with Ricky? Wonder how that’ll look for the courts.”

She looks like she’s about to retort – but doesn’t. She leaves with one half-furious, half-devastated look, like she can’t believe he sank that low, and Eddie watches her, his vision throbbing with rage.

It’s only once he’s watched her drive off that he realises that during their entire screaming match, Buck hasn’t made an appearance. Just as quickly as it came on, the anger leaves him – his stomach hits the floor.

Buck’s slept all morning. Even through this. There must be something wrong.

He storms to the bedroom, opens the door – finds Buck sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes wearily. He’s shirtless, bruised, still scratched to pieces. His face and temple have come up in a delicate bloom of colours, and Eddie thinks it has to be a head injury. Nothing else could’ve caused Buck to sleep like this.

“Eddie?” Buck asks, lifting his head. He’s almost confused, looks a little lost. _Head injury_ , Eddie’s lizard brain screams. _He needs a hospital right now._

“You’re going to a hospital,” Eddie says shortly, throwing a change of clothes into a duffel bag.

“What?” Buck asks slowly. “Why?”

“You didn’t wake up when Shannon and I were having our screaming match, Buck.” He fumbles blindly with their toiletries, grabs a can of deodorant that might not even be Buck’s. His vision is still misty with rage, heart pounding from the conflict, hands shaking a little. He hasn’t been this honest to God angry in a long, long time. Shannon wants to take it to court – fine. Eddie will make sure she never sees Chris again if he can. Chris hasn’t even wanted to go, Eddie can’t believe he’s let it go on this long-

He registers silence, suddenly, through the fog. He was expecting a retort from Buck, something about not needing a hospital or for Eddie to relax, that he’s fine – but he hasn’t gotten one yet. The duffel bag is almost stuffed.

He turns around, sees that Buck’s sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Eddie’s frozen for a moment, looking at the tense set of Buck’s shoulders, the way he seems drawn taut with agony.

Buck sniffs, moves minutely like he’s digging the heel of his hand into his eye, curls his shoulders down like he’s trying to hide. The realisation that Buck only executes that movement when he’s afraid comes with a lurching in Eddie’s gut, an undeniable sense that he’s massively fucked up.

“Buck,” he whispers, and moves closer, settles on the bed next to Buck carefully. Buck cringes like hearing Eddie’s voice hurts. “Buck, hey, cariño. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m not angry at you. I promise I’m not angry at you.”

Buck doesn’t move, but he allows Eddie to pull him in close. He’s shaking, and Eddie catches a brief glimpse of his face – eyes squinched shut, mouth turned down tremulously.

“I’m angry at Shannon, Buck,” he says helplessly, rubbing Buck’s back gently. “I wasn’t – I wasn’t having a dig at you, I promise. I’m just worried that – you normally react to this stuff fast, you normally wake up fast, and this time you didn’t. It’s not – I’m not blaming you for anything.” He knows he needs to explain, right now, knows that Buck is probably sinking into a headspace that more or less resembles the Buck he is with his dad, or Matt. “It’s not you, baby. I’m just worried. I’m worried you hurt your head. It came out wrong.”

“Sorry,” Buck chokes, and then his body rocks with a sob that’s been threatening to come out for a while – and then another, and another, until Eddie’s shirt is wet at the collar and he’s convinced that Buck will throw up from how hard he’s crying. He’s never seen Buck cry like this – on the heel of that realisation is that he hasn’t seen Buck cry since the tsunami at all.

Buck didn’t wake up from the yelling, and now he’s inconsolable in Eddie’s arms, and he hasn’t been sleeping – if he is, it’s interrupted by nightmares, or he’s doing it on the tiles in the bathroom. Eddie doesn’t begrudge him crying – he’s almost glad for it – but the rest of it? Buck’s got slashes to the side of his face like he got hit with some force. He could have a brain injury that got missed. The doctors told him to come back if anything changed, if Buck was behaving abnormally – and this? This is abnormal.

“Will you come to the hospital?” Eddie murmurs helplessly. The smell of Buck’s shampoo is filling his nose, and some primitive part of his brain is soothed by the scent of his loved one so close by. The rest of him is too worried to be comforted. “I’m just – I’m just worried about you, that’s all. I just want to get you checked out.”

He’s not sure that Buck believes him. He’s especially not sure after Buck mumbles another tearful apology, quickly squeezes Eddie’s thigh and back where he’s been holding on, and then lets go abruptly, pulling away and trying to hide his face.

For all Eddie knows, Buck’s not in a mindset to recognise help when he sees it. For all he knows, Buck might think Eddie’s going to abandon him at the hospital.

“I’ll stay with you,” he says, just as helpless as he was before. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Buck scrubs a hand over his face, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. Nods.

“You’ll go?”

Another nod.

“Okay.” Eddie stands on rubber legs. He’s never been this worried before, not for this amount of time. “Let me pack a bag. Then we’ll go.”

~*~

The emergency department is almost full.

Dismayed, Eddie finds a still-silent Buck a seat and leaves him there while he goes to get admission paperwork from the front desk. He tells the nurses what he knows, that Buck’s behaviour is erratic and unusual for him, about the sleeping and that he was in the tsunami.

“I see,” the nurse says. “Psychiatric triage then?”

“What?” Eddie asks. “No – no, he’s had a head injury. I think it needs to be looked at again.”

She gives him a dubious look, but she notes it down and sends him off with the paperwork. He re-joins Buck – sitting in a corner end seat, where Eddie can sit beside him and effectively stop anyone from startling him – and sits down.

He’s about to ask Buck to fill the form out, but Buck’s looking a little dazed and a little unsure of his surroundings. Glancing over the paperwork, it’s nothing he doesn’t already know – so he starts filling it out himself, surprised when he gets all the way through to allergies before having to ask a question.

“Are you allergic to anything?” he asks.

Buck blinks himself out of a stupor. “What?”

Eddie winces; his voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. “Allergies,” he says, and waves the clipboard a little. Buck tracks it, looking vaguely startled. “Do you have any?”

“Kiwi,” Buck replies, after a moment. “I can do it.”

“I’ve pretty much finished,” Eddie says apologetically. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Buck doesn’t sound bothered, but that doesn’t exactly fill Eddie with confidence. “I – how long’s the wait?”

“I’m guessing a while. No drug allergies?”

Buck shakes his head. Eddie fills the form in, lets Buck sign, and takes it back to the front counter. Buck’s leg is bouncing nervously, and his hand is clenched on his thigh.

“Do you think something’s wrong with me?” he asks when Eddie sits back down. He’s staring off out the window, past an elderly man who has a cannula in his nose, connected to an oxygen tank.

Eddie’s a little surprised – and wary of – the question. The way Buck says it makes it sound like a challenge, and the last thing either of them needs is for Buck’s behaviour to suddenly turn from being weepy to aggressive.

“I think maybe you hit your head and they cleared you too quick,” Eddie says slowly. “I’m not angry with you, Buck. That’s not what this is about. I’m not punishing you.” It only takes a split second and a flash of fear on Buck’s face for Eddie to realise – that’s exactly what Buck thinks this is; punishment, for not being up to standard.

Eddie swallows. Buck’s mindset is worse than he’d thought, then, if he’s trapped in a cycle of comparing Eddie to Matt. This hasn’t been a problem since – well, since he even told Eddie about Matt. Buck’s slipped, and he’s slipped hard and fast, and somehow, Eddie didn’t notice.

“I’m not punishing you,” he reiterates, but Buck still cringes a little when he reaches for him. “I love you, Buck. I brought you here because I’m worried about you. That’s all this is, I swear.”

Buck doesn’t answer him, and Eddie doesn’t try to touch him again. Buck’s leg jumps and jumps and the old man is giving him a dirty look, as if Buck can help it. They sit in silence, and the emergency department rages around them.

“You don’t have to stay,” Buck says, not looking at him.

“Like I’m going anywhere,” Eddie counters. He’s perfectly content here, using his body to box Buck into the corner and keep prying eyes off him. He’d fight the entire room with one hand behind his back if he thought it would make even an iota of difference to Buck’s state. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Eddie feels movement next to him, but before he can manage to turn around, Buck’s settled with his head on Eddie’s shoulder, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck. Hiding, Eddie thinks sadly. He can feel Buck shaking minutely, or maybe that’s his leg bouncing.

He lifts his arm carefully and puts it around Buck’s shoulders, onlookers be damned, and holds him tight. Buck lets out a shaky sigh against his neck, but his shoulders ease up, tension draining from his body. His leg stops bouncing.

“There you are,” Eddie says quietly, and he feels Buck nod a little. This is his Buck – this is his Buck who believes unfailingly that Eddie won’t hurt him, that Eddie’s here to help him.

“I know,” Buck says after a moment.

“Know what?” He’s glaring at the old man, who’s definitely judging them for something other than Buck’s now-still leg.

“That you’re not punishing me.” Buck takes a wobbly breath. “I know. I just don’t feel great.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Eddie says quietly, even as his heart sinks at the confirmation – Buck’s sick, or he’s in pain, and he hasn’t said anything.

They wait for two hours, maybe a little over, before a nurse appears and calls Buck back. Eddie’s not allowed to go with him, and so he sits, trying not to twitch, and waits. He shoots a message to abuela – _please pick up Christopher; it’s urgent_. Tells himself he sat for far longer in Afghanistan, that the waiting game has and always can be worse – like those days he was waiting for Buck to wake up after Matt nearly killed him.

So he waits. The old man mutters something about preferential treatment. Eddie doesn’t start a fight in the emergency department and calls it a win.

“Eddie Diaz?”

He stands quickly, wipes his hands on his thighs. “Hey, doc,” he says. “How is he?”

The doctor motions for Eddie to follow him, and he does, numbly, noting the serious expression on his face. They come to a stop outside one of the exam rooms, and the doctor turns to him, face mildly gentler than it was in the hallway.

“Your boyfriend is physically fine, Mr. Diaz,” he says softly.

Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank God,” he croaks, rubbing his face. “I was worried when he didn’t wake up, I – I’m sorry for wasting your time-”

“You didn’t waste my time,” the doctor says. “In fact, you did the right thing bringing him here.”

“But I thought you said he was-”

“I said he was physically fine,” the doctor says, his voice gentle like he’s talking to a wounded animal. “Psychologically is another story.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve given him diazepam to help him calm down. He’s got a referral to see a specialised trauma psychiatrist on Thursday. You need to make sure he keeps it.”

Eddie blinks. Swallows. “Trauma psychiatrist?” he asks.

“Mr. Diaz… Evan lived through and witnessed an event that would turn anyone on their heads. From my understanding, there’s also significant trauma in his past that’s yet to be properly dealt with. He needs to see a specialist, and he needs to contact his workplace and inform them that he won’t be coming in until further notice. Psychologically speaking, he’s not fit to return to duty at the moment. Do you understand?”

“He’s sick?” Eddie’s voice wobbles. “Like his – there’s something wrong with him? Like – like depression?”

“I’m not a psychologist.” Still with that gentle tone. “I can’t diagnose him. Which is why you’ve done the right thing in bringing him here.”

“But he-” Eddie takes a moment, trying to work out how to best proceed. “He’s been sleeping, he slept right through – I thought there might be something wrong with his head, and he said he doesn’t feel great. How – if you’ve cleared him medically-?”

“Mr. Diaz,” the doctor interrupts. “Evan is physically fine, if a little worn down. Medically, I have cleared him. He’s injured psychologically.” The doctor watches him carefully, as if trying to assess where he’s at. “I’m telling you Evan needs to see a psychiatrist for mental health issues. Do you understand that?”

Eddie bites on his lip, clenches his fists until his knuckles bite into his palms. “Is he gonna – is he gonna kill himself? Try to?”

“I don’t think so.” The doctor eyes him sympathetically. “He’s very clear in that he wants help and is willing to engage in whatever services I offer to him. He mentioned your son – Christopher. He said Christopher was there.”

“He’s our son.” The words are out before Eddie thinks about it. “He – he’s our son now. Both of ours. Buck jumped in. To save him.”

“Evan’s indicated to me that being there for you and your son is more important to him than anything else he may be feeling,” the doctor says. “While that’s certainly a good reason to hold on, it’s not a silver bullet. You need to make sure he keeps his appointment for Thursday.”

“How do I help him?” Eddie hears himself ask.

“He’s tired,” the doctor says. “I think exhausted is probably a more accurate description. He needs to sleep, and he needs to sleep well. I’m going to prescribe some sleeping tablets – right now, I think the risk of his mental and physical health deteriorating due to the lack of sleep is greater than the chance he’ll get addicted to them. Has he had issues with addiction before?”

“No.” Buck was reluctant to even take the opiates prescribed to him after his hardware removal surgery, and stopped using them after two days. “No, he’s always been fine on that front. So – he needs sleep?”

“It’s not a cure-all. Right now, he’s running on empty. He can’t make good decisions when he’s running on empty. If I don’t medicate him, he might start self-medicating.”

“Okay, doc.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “So – sleep? And – what else?”

“Exercise,” the doctor says simply. “I know it sounds counterintuitive with him being as tired as he is, but once he’s gotten some decent rest under his belt he needs to exercise. It’ll help prevent the nightmares to an extent. He just needs you there, Mr. Diaz. That’s the main thing.”

“I can do that,” Eddie says. “I – I’m not going anywhere.”

The doctor nods, eyeing him up and down for a moment, and then says, “While you’re at his appointment on Thursday, I’d like you to go and see someone yourself. You were there, right?”

“I’m fine.” He’s anything but, but he’s more fine than Buck or Chris. “Can I – can I see him? Does he want to see me?”

“He knows you’re not angry, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says comfortingly. “Once he had calmed down enough to explain what had happened, he could recognise that. You can take him home. He’ll likely want to sleep off the diazepam.” The doctor gestures to a room two doors away. “He’s in exam room three. He’s got his discharge papers. I thought you might want to take a moment first.”

Eddie reaches out, shakes the doctor’s hand, covers it with his own. “Thanks,” he chokes out, his eyes blurring a little. “Thank you.”

Buck’s sitting on the exam table in the room, idly pulling at a string on his hoodie. The duffel bag Eddie had hastily packed is abandoned beside him. His eyes are red – probably from the crying – and he’s slumped like he’s too tired to keep a straight posture.

He looks up when the door moves, opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it and shrugs instead, weakly.

“God, Buck,” Eddie says, and crosses the room in two strides to hold him. Buck sinks into him exhaustedly, clinging to his hoodie with one hand. “I was so worried about you, querido.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck mumbles into his shoulder. “I… I don’t know what happened. I know you weren’t…”

“Shh. It’s okay, I know.” Eddie pulls away. “Are you tired?” Stupid question – he _knows_ Buck is tired, probably more than he ever has been in his life.

“A little.” Buck rubs his eyes. “Doc gave me something.”

“Diazepam. He thought you’d wanna sleep it off at home.” Eddie chews his lip. “He also said-”

“I can’t work,” Buck says. “Yet. He told me.” He smiles weakly. “Guess you aren’t gonna need to pay for childcare.”

“You’re taking it well,” Eddie murmurs, smoothing Buck’s hair back.

“He drugged me.” Eddie thinks Buck meant that to be funny, but it falls flat with the beeping echoing through the hospital and the call of a code grey. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go home?”

He swallows. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

~*~

The diazepam really kicks in on the way home, and Buck’s groggy by the time they get indoors.

“I have to call Bobby,” he mumbles blearily.

“No,” Eddie says, steering him to the couch, “you need to sleep. We can call Bobby later. Just get some rest while the diazepam is still in your system.”

Buck wedges himself into the l-shape of the couch and is out as soon as his head is down, leaving Eddie to get his shoes off and cover him with a throw rug. It’s not especially cold, but Buck always looks a little uncomfortable when he sleeps without at least something weighing him down.

Pepa and abuela are having a blast with Christopher, apparently, which buys Eddie some valuable time. He books an appointment with a child psychologist for Chris, then looks up the specialist Buck’s been referred to. Nothing but good reviews, but he’s still a little worried. Buck takes a long time to get comfortable with people – he’s just good at pretending otherwise. A new therapist so soon after a life-changing event…

He’s not a kid, Eddie reminds himself as he paces the length of the living room. Buck’s an adult. Buck’s an adult capable of adapting to new people and expressing himself when he’s not doing well.

Except he hasn’t been doing that. And Eddie knows sometimes he can’t do that. He hasn’t done that this week – he’s more than demonstrated he’s not okay, probably against his own will, and Eddie failed to pick up the signs. How will anyone else notice?

Eddie turns to look at him, on the couch. It’s been almost five hours since they got home, and Buck hasn’t stirred. The combination of diazepam and exhaustion have well and truly knocked him out.

Abuela and Pepa bring Chris back – he’s dead asleep in the car, so Eddie carries him inside and puts him to bed as Buck continues to sleep. It’s only after Eddie’s grabbed a beer and flopped onto the couch that Buck stirs, nearly eight hours after leaving the hospital.

“Eddie?” he croaks, looking around.

Eddie tries to smile – the idea that Buck wakes up and immediately looks for him is kind of nice. It’s just hard to feel that right now. “Hey,” he says.

Buck shifts, groans as a few joints crack. Eddie abandons his beer in favour of sliding up behind Buck, between the back of the couch and Buck’s broad back, and wraps his arms around him. Buck relaxes with a yawn, tips his head down to rest on Eddie’s bicep.

“How long did I sleep?” he mumbles.

“Eight hours or so. You feel a little better?”

“Mm. Doesn’t feel like I’ve got cotton swabs between my ears now, anyway.” Buck shifts languidly, again, like he’s working the kinks out of his muscles. “Chris?”

“Abuela and Pepa brought him home. He’s asleep in bed.” Eddie wedges a hand between them, starts stroking Buck’s back slowly. Buck sighs. “Reckon you could sleep some more?”

“Probably,” Buck yawns. “Still fuzzy.”

“That’ll be the diazepam,” Eddie murmurs back, reaching back to grab another blanket from the back of the couch. He’s not going to risk trying to get Buck to move to bed and making him more alert when he seems perfectly comfortable on the couch – even if he’s stiff in the morning, it’ll be worth it for the sleep. “Go back to sleep.”

“Staying?” Buck mumbles blearily.

“Yeah, I’m staying.”

Eddie feels Buck’s lips on the inside of his arm, gentle. “Should go to bed,” Buck murmurs sleepily. “Be comfier.”

“I’m comfy right here with my limited edition Buck body pillow.”

“Limited edition,” Buck sighs, and Eddie can almost hear him smiling. “So nice to me. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck,” Eddie replies, unable to explain the sudden lump in his throat. He draws Buck closer, tries swallowing down the tears threatening to fall. “C’mon, stop talking and get some sleep. We can pick it up in the morning.”

Buck doesn’t answer. His breathing has evened out, and he’s gone lax in Eddie’s arms. Mercifully, he’s asleep.

Eddie curls around him tighter, repeats the mantra he’s been telling himself every day since it happened – things will be better in the morning.

~*~

Things aren’t all that better in the morning.

Sure, they slept. But the diazepam has worn off and there’s phone calls to make – Eddie fumbles his way through pancakes as Buck makes the call to Bobby, pacing in the living room. He doesn’t seem overly concerned with Eddie overhearing anything he says, which is a relief, at least. He’s not hiding from Eddie, at least not at the moment.

He’s almost done plating up breakfast when Buck appears, looking somehow like he hasn’t slept at all. Eddie aches to hold him – but at what point does it become coddling? He doesn’t know where the line is. He feels adrift, somehow, like they never really made it out of the water.

“Bobby’s gonna get another station to fill my spot while I’m gone,” Buck says, rubbing his face tiredly. “He said they have reserves. We’re gonna give it a month, then reassess.” He says the last word with air quotes.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I know you love the job…”

Buck shrugs. “I’m not gone gone. Just… benched. Again.” He smiles a bit. “Besides, Chris’s school break is coming up. I know childcare is hard. So I can hang out with him. Be a good little house husband.”

“You cause too much chaos to be considered a good house husband,” Eddie says, relieved that Buck’s joking about all this. “A hot house husband, maybe.”

“I only cause chaos when Chris eggs me on,” Buck argues, his eyes huge and tragic.

“Chris is eight,” Eddie says. “You are twenty-seven.”

“Hey, speaking of eight-year-olds,” Buck says, opening the fridge in his quest for food, “we haven’t seen Liam in a long time. What’s going on there?”

“Think his mom is just stressed about recovery. And the court case.” Eddie thinks privately that it’s a shame Liam’s dad didn’t die in the fire. “Maybe we should have him over?”

“Did they fight?” Buck queries.

“What?”

“Chris and Liam. Did they fight? Chris hasn’t mentioned him in a while.”

Eddie stops to think. He hadn’t even considered it, but maybe Chris is getting to the age where he’s more likely to fight with other kids over things. But – Chris is a soft, gentle kid. If he had a fight with his best friend, Eddie has no doubt that it would be tearing him up enough for him to mention it.

“He could just be distracted,” he admits. “After everything.”

Buck nods. Eddie knows they’re on the same page – they’re worried about Chris, about the fact that he seems fine and normal. But they’ve been to therapy with Chris, watched him with the child psychologist – he remembers parts of it, horrible parts, like bodies floating past them, people who couldn’t be saved.

Buck had nearly broken over that. “I tried not to let him see,” he’d whispered to Eddie. “We played I Spy, I didn’t think…”

It wasn’t Buck’s fault. In fact, one thing that consistently shows up in Chris’s drawings is Buck – marked with a bright red shirt and a clumsy birthmark – pulling people out of the water. Or with Chris himself. It’s a little hard to tell with kid drawings, but it’s clear to both Eddie and the child psychologist – Chris feels like Buck saved him, and he’s going to need Buck around for his recovery.

“I hope they didn’t fight,” Buck muses. “It’s the last thing he needs. His last session with the kid psych…”

Was brutal. Eddie finishes the sentence mentally. Buck’s not wrong – Chris had bawled for a while, slept with them that night. He isn’t letting Buck out of his sight when he’s home, and he hates being away overnight. Even if Eddie was willing to send him to Shannon at this point, he doesn’t think he’d actually be able to make Chris go.

“What about you?” Eddie asks. “I mean… I know you love your job. How’re you doing? Being away?”

“It’s not permanent,” Buck says quietly. “It’s not like my leg or the embolism. I’ll be back eventually. It’s just – the therapist called it a reset. It’s just… enough time for my brain to get back to homeostasis, or something like that.”

“I didn’t know you’d already spoken to him,” Eddie says, surprised.

Buck shrugs. “Doc got me a phone call. Said it was urgent I get in right away. I was on the phone for half an hour… s’why they took so long to go get you.”

“Is the new therapist good?” Eddie asks, a little awkwardly.

Buck shrugs. “He’s a trauma psychiatrist,” he replies, not looking at Eddie. “Kinda like the chiropractor of the psych world. He finds where it hurts and then he really digs in until you’re begging him to stop.”

Eddie winces. “Were you? Asking him to stop?”

“He’s doing his job. Sucks for me right now, but it’ll be better for me in the long run. I can’t just use sleeping tablets to get to sleep indefinitely.”

He’s right. Buck’s made it clear he intends to halve them – it’s enough to make him drowsy and keep him under once he’s asleep, which is the main problem in the first place. Falling asleep, when you’re as exhausted as he’s been – no problem. Staying asleep with nightmares tormenting you? Another ballgame.

“I’ll come with you to the next one,” he offers. He’s not sure that Buck will want him there – God knows he’d prefer to lay low in the aftermath of a therapy session over the company. “If you want.”

Buck takes a deep breath, then another. It almost sounds like he’s trying to calm himself down, and Eddie’s on the verge of recanting when Buck says, “Yeah. That’d be good, actually.”

~*~

So that’s what they do.

Buck’s sessions with the specialised therapist run for an hour and a half, and thank Christ they’re subsidised by the department, because otherwise there’s no way either of them could afford it on firefighter wages. Eddie drives him there and promises Buck he’ll go walk around for a bit while he waits – but he sits in the car for close to an hour, worrying, then goes to Starbucks to get them both a coffee before returning to the carpark.

He just doesn’t know what to do. Or how to help. Buck’s miserable and when he’s not outwardly miserable he’s drowsy from the sleeping tablets or wound tight from nightmares. It feels like forever since Eddie’s seen him really, sincerely smile.

He tells himself it’s only been a few days since the tsunami. That whatever’s going on inside Buck’s brain, he got Buck to help in time – that the people who know how to help him are aware of the need to, now, and that they managed to head it off before it could sink its claws in. Buck’s always been honest, even if he’s only honest about not wanting to share things – and that, Eddie can work with.

His quiet internal panic is interrupted by the car door opening and Buck climbing in beside him. He doesn’t say anything – pulls the door shut and leans against the window for a moment, one hand over his face.

Helpless, Eddie reaches out and puts a hand on his thigh. Buck’s free hand closes over his, and for a moment, they just hold onto each other, the way they’ve been doing since it happened.

“I got you one of those frappe things you like,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Buck straightens a little, moves his hand away from his face. He’s not crying, and Eddie’s not sure if he should be relieved or worried about that – but in the next second, Buck leans over, a hand on the back of Eddie’s neck, and kisses him gently.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Eddie tries to smile and nod. But Buck looks pale and there are still shadows under his eyes and the sleep didn’t fix things the way Eddie had hoped – against hope – that it would.

“Let’s go home,” he says, and starts the engine.

~*~

Buck comes out of his shell a little on the way home, drinks his coffee and doesn’t talk about the session at all.

It’s none of Eddie’s business. If he feels helpless now, he can’t imagine how helpless he’d feel knowing what Buck’s actually thinking and still not being able to do anything about it.

“He says I don’t need meds,” Buck says as they pile out of the car.

“Who?”

“Frank. The therapist.” Buck shrugs, trying for casual and missing by a mile. “I was wondering about it, but he says I seem to be coping okay for now and that he doesn’t want to put me on meds. For now. If things go downhill-”

“If things go downhill, we’ll deal with it then,” Eddie tries to soothe.

Buck gives a little smile. “Yeah.”

“You worried about meds?”

“I’ve never been on them before. The diazepam really knocked me out the other night. I don’t like feeling foggy like that.”

Eddie nods. He gets it. Painkillers for his gunshot wounds, post Afghanistan, left him spacey and existing in a half-space between wakefulness and sleep. He doesn’t blame Buck for not wanting to be on the diazepam – or anything heavier.

“Was good for you to get some sleep, though,” Eddie says. “Just a one off. If you do need to go on meds we’ll work it out, okay? They don’t need to make you feel like that all the time.”

Buck actually looks comforted by that, and he spends the rest of the afternoon happily crowded into Eddie’s space. Buck’s probably the only person, other than Chris, who can get away with invading Eddie’s space constantly like this – Eddie’s just glad, right now, that he wants to be close, and isn’t withdrawn.

Eventually, it reaches the point in the evening where they could go out again, but can’t be bothered. They pick Chris up from abuela’s – resulting in her very worriedly skimming her hands over Buck’s admittedly still bruised and battered body and accusing Eddie of starving him – and then settle in for the night.

“I’m gonna get changed,” Buck says, sometime after dinner. “Chris, you wanna watch a movie?”

Chris brightens immensely. He’s clung to Buck all evening the way Buck’s clung to Eddie all day – Eddie never thought he’d meet someone who could make Chris feel safe like that, but here they are.

“There’s a new Disney movie out,” Chris says excitedly. “Can we watch that?”

“Sure can. Go get Chompy and Bells and Dragon, okay? We’ll make it a party.”

Eddie shakes his head as his kid takes off down the hallway. Buck’s already stripping his shirt – the bruising is still purplish in places, but going green around the edges. Buck’s healing, albeit slower than he normally would with the lack of sleep. He still looks like he’s been through a warzone – it just looks like it’s a few miles behind him now.

He follows Buck into the bedroom – maybe thinking about getting some cream on the bruises – and finds him standing at the foot of the bed, a duffel bag open in front of him. Buck’s actually laughing as he goes through it – it’s so strange to see after the week they’ve had, Eddie almost doesn’t know what to make of it.

“What are you laughing at?” Eddie asks blankly.

Buck holds up a stack of sweatpants and the duffel bag that’s been abandoned on the floor for the last two days. “Remember you packed me a bag the other night? Because you thought I’d need to stay over at the hospital?”

“Yeah?”

“Well… you packed me a tube of Chris’s toothpaste, your deodorant, seven pairs of sweatpants, and a beach towel.”

There’s a pause, and then Eddie snorts, and Buck breaks out into this beautiful grin – like nothing bad has happened in the last week. It feels like a millennium since Eddie saw him smile, and he’s desperate to keep it there.

“I tried, okay? I was a little distracted.”

Buck shakes his head, and he even laughs a little, past the smile – walks over and gives Eddie a long, soft kiss, doesn’t even pull away when Eddie wraps him in a hug. It’s like they haven’t had the chance, lately.

“Thanks,” Buck says. “For not giving up on me.”

~*~

_“He’s drowning.”_

_He’s moving through a crowd of people, all of them waterlogged and helpless, wailing. Above him, a harsh halogen light blares, blinding him, burning his vision. He’s awake and asleep and can’t do anything about either. It all hurts._

_He reaches his target, a kid, blonde haired. Something tells him the kid has inhaled water and is drowning on dry land – he flips him over-_

_Chris’s eyes stare back at him, lifeless, little mouth open. Drowned, dead on dry ground. His hands pump at Chris’s chest and he’s yelling at him to wake up, but it’s too late – Chris is gone, gone where Eddie can’t reach him-_

He wakes up, gasping.

For a moment, he’s totally disoriented. Everything is black, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust – to take in the shapes of his bedroom, the feel of the sheets tangled around him, the warmth of another human body close by.

It was a dream. A nightmare, more accurately. And Chris is fine – he’s sleeping on the edge of the bed, Eddie can see him, Chompy under one arm and one fist tangled into Buck’s t-shirt. Buck is asleep too – dead-to-rights unconscious, face stuffed into his pillow, sides lifting with long, slow breaths.

Eddie swallows once, and then again, staving off the need to vomit even as his mouth fills with saliva and his skin prickles with a cold sweat. It takes a moment, but the urge passes – he stares around at their bedroom, feeling both awake and horribly underwater, asleep.

Buck said to wake him up if he had nightmares. But… Buck is totally knocked out next to him, for once, sleeping peacefully and curled up with his back to Eddie, blanket tugged around him. Maybe not so peaceful – Buck rarely sleeps curled up like that – but he is actually sleeping. For once. And not having nightmares.

Eddie’s not going to ruin that for him. He takes a deep, steadying breath, then lies back down, moves close enough to spoon Buck gently. If he works the angle, he can even touch Chris at the same time – feel his little chest rising and falling.

They’re fine. Buck saved Chris and they’re all in bed together, and Eddie’s not going to let anything happen to either of them. He closes his eyes, determined to rest.

Sleep doesn’t find him for a long time.


	33. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OVER 1000 COMMENTS HOLY HELL Y'ALL  
> thanks for the love on the last chapter and special love to EnigmaticSplendor for leaving comments on almost every chapter so far - it has truthfully made my so far awful week!  
>  **trigger warnings for this chapter - mentions of flashbacks to the tsunami, buck's in generally not a good state (has a panic attack towards the latter end of the chapter), mention of suicide. and the street fighting arc starts here. so be warned.** but enjoy!
> 
> i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com.

Eddie goes back to work.

Buck doesn’t.

The first day walking in without him feels inappropriately strange. Eddie has worked shifts without Buck before, plenty of them – but this feels different. This feels like a loss, like something has been carved out of him.

Their little fire family know, of course. They greet Eddie almost gently, and Hen is the first to say, “So, how’s our baby doing?” and that alone nearly breaks him – Buck should be here with them, not curled up on the couch half stoned from sleeping pills and fighting with his own brain.

“He’s sleeping more,” Eddie says. “He’s – he’s quiet. I’ve never really seen that before.”

Even saying it feels like he’s giving away more than he should – more than he’s comfortable with. He’s got the irrational urge to protect Buck even from his loved ones – from Hen and Chim and Bobby, all of whom have been nothing but supportive since Buck called and said he couldn’t work, and even from Maddie. Maddie, the only family member who Buck has any relationship with, let alone a good one.

Buck doesn’t need protecting from anyone but himself at the moment, and maybe that’s what’s eating at Eddie’s brain. That he’s here, protecting the outside world, while his own tiny universe spins on a fragile axis, the tilt of which is at the mercy of medical professionals Eddie has never even met and the darkest recesses of Buck’s mind.

“He gets quiet,” Hen says, after a moment, where Chim fails to fill the silence. “When he had his first death after he started here, he really went to ground. He took a while to bounce back, Eddie, but he did. He’ll do the same this time.”

This isn’t that, Eddie wants to insist. One person falling to their death versus dozens of people floating past, having fought and raged for their lives, people Buck couldn’t save – they’re completely different things, totally different traumas. He’s getting acquainted with that word and its presence in their lives now, a type of fungus he just can’t scrub clean.

“Eddie,” Hen says.

He blinks, looks up. She’s watching him sympathetically.

“Buck’s gonna be okay,” she reassures him. “He might not be right now, but he’s stubborn as hell and he’s going to get through it.”

Eddie almost wants to tell her about the conversation with the doctor – the doctor saying, “Evan needs to see a psychiatrist for mental health issues,” and Eddie’s world blurring with the idea that Buck’s survived a truck bombing, an embolism, a tsunami – and it might be his own brain that takes him out of the equation.

“Yeah,” he says, finally, realizing she won’t drop it until he does. “I know.”

~*~

Buck’s replacement is a woman named Lena Bosko, who looks like she spends more time in the gym than Eddie does.

“Hope your guy is better soon,” she remarks to Bobby as she’s shown a locker and some gear. “Tsunami was a rough time for everyone.”

“You were there?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah. Working with a different crew, but I was there.”

Eddie casts his memory back, to see if he remembers seeing her anywhere, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t remember much of that thirty hour period. Probably for the best anyway.

It’s only day one, and he’s already looking forward to getting back to Buck. This is the first time they’ve really been apart since the tsunami – and while he’s perfectly confident in Buck’s ability to take care of Chris, he’s a little less confident that Buck will take care of himself.

He sighs as he checks his watch. He started at five – left Buck curled up and groggy in their bed, having already stolen Eddie’s pillow – and it’s a twelve-hour shift. Chris has school today, he’s fairly sure Buck’s got therapy, and dinner’s going to have to be made. The list of things that need to be accomplished gets longer and longer.

The shift drags, even though he should be happy to be back. He worked too fucking hard to not love his job and being there, but he’s consumed with worry the entire day – what if Chris gets sick or has a flashback at school? What if Eddie gets home and Buck is sleeping on the floor tiles in the bathroom again?

It doesn’t help that not much happens. Eddie tries to rest in the sleeping rooms – after nightmares from both Chris and Buck, he needs it – but doesn’t have any luck. He keeps thinking of his own, the ones where he rolls over the body of the boy he knows he saved, only to find Chris, lifeless, staring up at him.

He can’t leave fast enough when the day ends. Chimney and Hen are sharing sympathetic looks, but they don’t say anything when he takes off right on the dot. They know how hard it’s been, sort of, in a half-measured way only given away to them by Buck’s absence at work.

“He wouldn’t call out if it wasn’t serious,” he’d overheard Hen saying to Chim. “All I’m saying is that we should keep an eye on them – all of them.”

Eddie had left before he could overhear more. He knows they mean well, but that irrational desire to protect Buck even from his loved ones is rearing its head again.

He makes it home in record time, parks, and jogs up the steps to the house. Buck’s truck is in place, parked a little haphazardly on the curb, and Chris’s shoes are outside.

The door is unlocked. He steps in and is greeted by a loud, belligerent meow – Concrete has been sleeping on the shoe rack to soak up the sun, right where he’s not supposed to be.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, but strokes the cat affectionately before kicking his shoes off. “Buck?”

“In here,” Buck’s voice calls from the kitchen.

He registers the smell of banana bread as he walks through the house – follows the scent all the way through until he comes to a stop in the kitchen doorway.

He thought he might’ve found his boys a complete wreck, but it’s just the opposite. Buck’s standing at the counter with a bit of banana bread in one hand and a mixing spoon in the other. Chris is sitting right next to him, wearing his junior chef apron and beaming at Eddie happily.

“Dad,” he crows gleefully, “we made snacks!”

“I can see that,” Eddie says, feeling himself relax minutely. Buck even looks well-rested – the bags under his eyes are starting to go away, at least.

He enters, hugs Chris tightly, and then turns to Buck. Buck smiles at him knowingly – he must’ve realized how stressed Eddie would be about leaving them before Eddie even did.

“Hey,” he says quietly, and Eddie puts a hand on his lower back, pulls him in close to kiss him even as Chris makes gagging noises in the background. He can taste the banana bread and makes a note to grab some before his boys eat all of it.

“We’ve been busy,” Buck says when they separate.

“Clearly,” Eddie says, casting his eyes over the kitchen – which is a wreck. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Buck says through a mouthful of banana bread. “Took Chris to school, went to the gym, went to therapy, didn’t sit in my car for half an hour wondering how the hell I got back there, picked Chris up.”

“Bucky helped with homework,” Chris says cheerfully. “I did my times tables.”

“Hardly needed help at all,” Buck says proudly, ruffling Chris’s hair. “Then we made banana bread and now we’re getting dinner started.”

“Wow,” Eddie says, genuinely impressed at just how much Buck’s been able to cram into the time he’s been gone. “That’s impressive.”

“Thinking about starting a productivity YouTube channel,” Buck says, mock-serious. “You know, one of those ones that inspires you but also makes you feel like trash for not having your life together?”

“Weirdly specific,” Eddie teases, and kisses him gently. “I’m gonna go shower, then I’ll help with dinner.”

By the time he gets out, Buck’s chopping potatoes and Chris is grating cheese clumsily. He’s sitting on the counter when Eddie approaches, finger to his lips – he sneaks up, waits for Buck to put the knife down, and then wraps his arms around Buck’s waist.

“Hi,” Buck says. “I can see you in the backsplash, you know.”

Eddie grins into Buck’s shoulder, squeezes him tightly, and then lets him go. “Alright,” he says. “What’s left to be done? Put me to work.”

Buck nods to a pile of vegetables sitting nearby. “Those need to be washed,” he says.

“Okay, I see what this is. Mijo, do you and Buck not trust my cooking?”

“No,” they say, at exactly the same time.

“Ganging up on me,” Eddie complains jokingly as he takes the vegetables to the sink and turns the tap on.

The sound of the water splashing into the water makes Chris jerk – a full-bodied action that surprises Eddie – and Buck’s shoulders go rigid. He puts the knife down for long enough to move Chris closer on the counter, and Eddie watches as his throat works furiously.

Water, he realizes. They didn’t wash the vegetables because it meant going near water.

“It’s fine,” Buck says, almost curtly – it’s a clear sign to move on, that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Chris, judging by the expression on his face, doesn’t want to either.

“Okay,” Eddie says helplessly. “Okay.”

~*~

Dinner is amazing – it usually is when Buck cooks – and afterwards, they read to Christopher before putting him to sleep.

He always starts the night in his own bed. He usually migrates into their room sometime around midnight – squirms in between them if he can, but otherwise snuggles up on Buck’s side. Eddie’s half grateful, half jealous at Chris’s preference to Buck. He feels like he should be doing more, even as he knows there’s nothing more he can be doing.

“He’s out,” Buck yawns, slumping onto the couch with Eddie.

“You’re not far off following him,” Eddie teases. Buck’s sprawled out over him, now, his head on Eddie’s chest – Eddie rubs his hands up and down Buck’s back, then snakes them under his t-shirt. “Thanks for dinner, querido. You didn’t have to cook.”

“Not doing much else,” Buck murmurs, arching into Eddie’s touch. Eddie keeps going – traces patterns on the smooth skin of Buck’s spine, grateful that his boyfriend is able to accept the touch without flinching. For the last few days and especially since the tsunami, Buck’s body has been one big, painful bruise, and he’s flinched from anything more than a gentle hug.

“Hmm,” Buck sighs, digging his head further into Eddie’s chest.

“That good?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah.”

Eddie uses his thumbs to dig experimentally into Buck’s shoulders. Buck groans gratefully, pushes up a little before settling on Eddie, even more relaxed than he was before. He’s heavy, but his weight isn’t suffocating – it’s comforting, almost, to have Buck stretched out on him like a big cat.

“You’re tense,” Eddie murmurs, continuing to rub up and down Buck’s spine. It’s not surprising, with Buck being generally stressed and either pacing around at night or sleeping fitfully, curled into a ball – but maybe he can do something about it.”

“Mm,” Buck says, who seems to have been reduced to single-syllable sounds for now.

“Up,” Eddie says, patting his back. “Stretch out on your stomach. I’ll give you a proper massage.”

Buck moves reluctantly, spreads out on his belly, and sighs when Eddie sits astride him. From here, e can really dig his fingers in – works from Buck’s neck down to his traps and shoulders, kneads the rungs in his spine, works at the knots that make Buck groan in a mixture of pain and relief.

“Should’ve told me you were sore, hermoso,” Eddie murmurs as he works.

“You had enough to worry about,” Buck groans. “God, Eddie, ow.”

“Good ow or bad ow?”

“Both.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, you big baby.”

He moves down to hips and thighs, paying careful attention to the leg that’s been previously injured. Buck gives a minute twitch when Eddie digs his thumb in, but there’s no other indication that he’s in significant pain.

“Thank you,” he mumbles sleepily.

“You’re welcome. Bed?”

“Hmm.”

They get up. Buck’s wobbly, proclaims Eddie to be the best masseuse he’s ever had (“even if it didn’t have a happy ending”) and hardly brushes his teeth before collapsing into bed and curling around Eddie’s pillow.

“What do I sleep with?” Eddie teases, even as he grabs Buck’s.

“Smells like you,” Buck yawns. “Get your own.”

“I’m right here, you know,” he says, even as he feels oddly touched.

“Even better.” Buck squirms closer, which feels roughly the same as a huge yellow Labrador try to get your attention – gratifying, but mildly more painful than it should be. “Hmm. Nice Eddie-pillow.”

“Nice Eddie pillow is going to be missing a kidney in the morning,” Eddie grumbles, but holds Buck with one arm as he reaches over to switch out the light. “Get some sleep, cariño.”

“Love you,” Buck’s sleepy voice comes in the darkness.

Not for the first time that week, the words make Eddie choke up. “Love you too,” he whispers. “Goodnight.”

~*~

The next morning finds Chris wedged in between them, with Buck somehow still covering both of them with one leg.

Eddie will never understand how his bed accommodates two full grown men and Christopher at the same time, but they make it work. Chris has never co-slept until now – half of him wants to do something about it, but the other half tells him that if this is how Chris feels safe, then that’s how it’s gonna be for a while.

“Morning, Dad,” Chris whispers.

“Good morning, buddy.” Eddie strokes his kid’s hair back, looks past him at Buck’s sleeping face. “You helping Buck sleep?”

“Yeah,” Chris says proudly. “He sleeps real good when I’m here.”

Chris is right – he does. He’s still knocked out now, his mouth a little open. As Eddie watches, his nose twitches – a reaction to the pollen in the air, no doubt. Eddie reminds himself to pick up some hayfever meds on the way home.

“Wanna help me make him breakfast?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah!”

Breakfast is a pretty simple affair, what with Eddie only really knowing how to make three or four things. Still, once it’s all on and cooking, Buck wanders out sleepily – roused by the smell – and joins them.

“Sleep okay?” Eddie asks.

Buck nods, yawns, and sticks a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. If he’s ever lied successfully to Eddie… well, he supposes he wouldn’t know.

He heads off to work shortly after, leaving Chris and Buck to do the dishes. Neither of them seem to have an issue with the bubbly water in the sink – it might’ve been a one-off, or maybe the splashing sounds make it worse. Either way, he leaves them flinging bubbles at each other and has enough time to stop for coffee on the way into the 118.

The day is slow. Time crawls. Buck Snapchats him – pictures of him and Chris having fun without him, and genuinely seeming like they are having fun. He tries to nap, but he’s too wound up, and by the time their fourth hour with no calls comes around, he’s climbing the walls.

He goes to the kitchen for a snack – he’s gotta stop the snacking thing, but there’s not much else to do – and runs almost smack into Bobby, who’s just entered from the other direction.

“I was just coming to find you. Looks like we’ve got visitors,” Bobby says, smiling at Eddie.

“Huh?”

Eddie goes to lean over the railing – Buck’s standing in the truck bay, smiling, with Chris balanced expertly on his hip. Chris is probably getting too big to be carried in any manner, but Buck’s not quite ready to let go yet – and neither is Eddie.

“Dad!” Chris calls excitedly.

“Hey, little man!” Eddie jogs down the steps, smiling as he enters the truck bay. Buck actually looks well rested, for once, like maybe the dreams left him alone last night – he’s wearing one of those blue henleys that drives Eddie nuts and dark jeans. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m being a good house-husband and bringing you lunch,” Buck teases, and Eddie spots a plastic bag in his right hand – which he’s using to brace Christopher against him. “Thought I’d make myself useful.”

Chris wriggles to get down, and he’s just hugging Eddie’s legs as Eddie leans forward and gives Buck a quick kiss. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “You look better.”

“I slept a little,” Buck admits. “We caught a nap on the couch. Didn’t wake up until Maddie called me.”

Eddie rests a hand on the back of Buck’s neck, taking a moment to close his eyes. He’s not sure if anyone’s watching them – finds himself not caring, truthfully. He knows that their little family knows when to tease and when to leave it alone, and they’ve been lighter on the teasing with Buck being off work.

“Good,” he says softly. “That’s good.”

“Lunch?” Buck asks, holding up the bag.

“I helped!” Chris says, tugging on Eddie’s pants happily. “Bucky said today’s is extra special!”

“Oh really?” Eddie leans down, picks his kid up, smiles. “Why’s that?”

“Today’s Japanese food day,” Chris explains.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Where’d you get the time to make me Japanese food for lunch?” he asks.

Buck shrugs. “It’s not like I’ve got a lot else on, right? Decided to learn some new things.”

“Well, I’m not gonna say no.” Eddie smiles. “C’mon, come upstairs. Bet everyone will be happy to see you.”

And they are – the entire crew crowds around him with hugs him, crowing, and Buck doesn’t even shake them off – he returns the affection in spades. The only person who doesn’t join in on the hug pile is Bosko, who doesn’t really know him at all.

“Lena,” she says, and shakes Buck’s hand. “I’m just taking over while you’re gone. How’re you holding up?”

Buck shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable with the question. It’d be one thing coming from a team member – and even then, Buck would still probably look like he wanted to bolt – but he doesn’t know her, and his eyes dart to Eddie momentarily before saying, “Yeah. Doing a lot better.”

Bobby intervenes after that – he must see how uncomfortable Buck is – and tells them all to scram while he and Buck head to the captain’s office. It’s a welfare chat – they’ve all been on the receiving end of them before – but that doesn’t stop Eddie from wanting to go in and play second fiddle. It’s Bobby, not some random stick in the mud from the department, but still.

“C’mon, kid,” Chim says to Chris. “The pinball machine is getting pretty rusty.”

Chris cranes his head to watch Buck go with Bobby. “What about Bucky?” he asks uncertainly.

“I’ll get Buck to come play when he’s done,” Hen promises, and Chris leaves – a little reluctantly, like he’s not sure he wants to be out of Buck’s sight. Eddie swallows as he watches his kid leave – the dependence on Buck isn’t new or unexpected, but it is a little nerve-wracking.

“He’ll be alright, Eddie,” Hen says quietly.

“He’s been like this since it happened. Not wanting to be apart.” He shakes his head, goes to the sink – it’s his turn on dishes. “I get it. I just wish it was different.”

Hen leaves him with a conciliatory pat on the back and a vague offer to talk, which they both already know Eddie isn’t going to make good on.

He’s working his tension out on one of the poor frypans when he feels a touch at his shoulder. When he turns, he’s surprised to find Buck standing behind him, smiling sheepishly.

“What’d the non-stick pan do to you?”

Eddie scowls at it. “Non-stick? I thought this was just a regular pan.”

“If you cook the way you wash dishes, then yeah, it probably is.” Buck joins him, picking up a tea towel to start drying. “You were worried about me.”

“I always worry about you,” Eddie admits begrudgingly. “But yeah. I kinda was.”

“It was just a welfare check, Eds. He just wanted to see how I’m holding up. Nothing else.”

“There was that time where you had to get a lawsuit to get your job back.”

Buck sighs. “Nobody acted well in that situation,” he says regretfully. “I’m glad I got my job back, but if I could go back and do it differently, I would. Besides… this isn’t that, Eddie. Bobby wants me back here. He also doesn’t want me to be a nervous wreck.”

“I know.” He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

He doesn’t have the words to explain, in that moment, just what he’d do for Buck – he’d fight the world down to its last to keep him safe, sheltered, to make sure he never hurt again. He’s not afforded that option – who is? – but that doesn’t change the fact that he’d do it, that right now, it’s all he wants to do.

“I just want you safe,” he says finally.

Buck sneaks a little closer, puts a hand on Eddie’s lower back. “Eddie,” he says gently. “I am safe. You want the same thing as everyone else. That’s why I’m benched. We’re all on the same team, here.”

He knows Buck is right. That the team of “getting Buck back to fighting fit” is the strongest it ever has been before. But he still doesn’t feel good about it – he still feels irrationally angry. Buck performed above and beyond in the tsunami, outside the scope of his duties, and benching him – it feels almost like a punishment, to Eddie.

“I’m not okay to be back at work yet,” Buck says, with that horrible Buckley talent of being able to tell what’s bothering him shining through. “I will be soon. That’s okay, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie says quietly, and he leans into Buck a little bit. “I miss you being here.”

“I miss being here too.” Buck’s watching him. “I worry about you too, you know.”

“I know,” Eddie repeats, and he does, but it’s nice to be reminded.

Buck stays to eat with them, then packs Christopher off for a playdate with Liam. Eddie watches them both go from the railing, jaw clenched, desperately wishing they weren’t ever out of his sight.

“He’s doing fine, kid,” Bobby says gently.

Eddie swallows. The urge to cry or hit something hasn’t really left him for a while now. “He’s sleeping more,” he agrees weakly. “That’s good, right?”

“Right. He sleeps, he’s got energy to deal with what happened. And he says he’s doing better. Buck’s never been someone to hide when he isn’t.” Bobby’s still watching him with that kind adoptive father expression he occasionally wears with them. “Are you okay?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

“You were right there with us, Eddie. We all saw some things we wish we hadn’t. And you had Buck and Chris see it as well. It’s okay if you’re not.”

Eddie steps away from the railing, throat a little thick. It’s nice of them to care – but he’s got bigger fish to fry than this. Buck and Chris need him.

“I’m alright, Cap,” he says, looking Bobby in the eye. “I gotta be.”

~*~

When he gets home, Buck has wrangled both Chris and a visiting Liam into pyjamas. The living room has been turned into a pillow fort in his absence.

“There’s an invasion of imaginary fanged ducks,” Buck explains from his spot on the floor. They’re all eating mac and cheese with little octopus sausages and peas – Chris’s regular Friday night treat. “Careful. You’re about to step on a landmine.”

“Do we really need to bomb the fanged ducks?” Eddie asks, dropping his bag in the hallway and picking his was over the “landmine” (which is actually just a crumpled sock) carefully. “Can’t we have armistice with them?”

“I suggested that,” Buck says solemnly, and shuffles over to let Eddie sit on half his couch cushion. “Liam said that the threat of invasion was too great to even consider it.”

“That’s a lot of words for an eight-year-old.”

Buck shrugs. “I paraphrased.”

Eddie laughs, feeling relieved at the sight of his little family safe and well in the middle of the living room, and leans over, kisses Buck softly. “Hey,” he murmurs.

“Hi.” Buck smiles at him. “Saved you some.”

“Mac and cheese with octopus sausage, my favourite,” Eddie deadpans. “How’d it go with Bobby?”

“He was just checking in on me,” Buck says. There’s a flurry of giggling from the fort, which Buck is sitting in front of. “I didn’t cry. Big step forward.”

It’s a joke, so Eddie tries to smile, but it hurts to hear all the same. “So uh,” he says, redirecting before Buck can pick up on his mood, “how come you’re out here?”

“I’m the fort guardian. Obviously.”

“You’re eating on the job. Slacker.”

“Guarding is a hard gig, Eddie. You have any idea how many fanged ducks are out there? A bunch.”

Liam’s head pops out from the blanket fort. “The ducks are staging a coup,” he whispers dramatically.

“Is that so?” Eddie asks. “Well, seems like it’s safer in there.”

“It is. ‘Cause Buck is guarding us!”

“I’m cannon fodder,” Buck says matter-of-factly. “This is my comeuppance for teaching them about social revolution.”

“Buck, they’re eight.”

“It’s never too early to learn! Some of the stuff they get taught in school is mind-numbing, Eddie. Do they really need to know about a bunch of white dudes who were so narcissistic they engraved their own heads onto an incredibly sacred mountain?”

“You’re a white dude.”

“And I’m the first to say that the Rushmore guys were narcissists.”

Eddie rubs his head. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower. Try not to introduce them to fascism while I’m gone.”

Chris’s head sticks out of the fort this time, curiously. “What’s fasht-ism, Dad?” he asks.

Buck grins triumphantly as Eddie groans, hauls himself off the floor, and heads for the shower. He’s no match against Buck’s incredible random-facts knowledge base and Chris’s insatiable curiosity – he really is better off just sitting back and enjoying the show.

When he comes back from his shower, the first thing he notices is that Buck’s gone from his guardian spot on the floor cushion. He grabs himself some mac and cheese and heads over to the fort, hearing low talking within.

He flips the sheet back gingerly, smiling when he sees that Buck has squished himself in with the kids – he’s got one on either side of him, and he’s got a book open, reading softly and smoothly. It takes Eddie a moment to notice that both kids are asleep – Chris with his body sprawled across Buck’s legs, and Liam with his head on Buck’s chest.

Eddie’s heart seizes, then swells. Buck looks up and gives him a warm smile. For a moment, everything seems fine – the tsunami and its looming effects drop away, and Eddie almost forgets that just five days ago he’d taken Buck to the emergency room, convinced there was something irrevocably wrong with him.

“Think they’re all tired out from the fanged duck invasion,” Buck whispers. “Wanna move the top sheet so I can get them to bed?”

“Sure,” Eddie whispers back, and gently pulls apart the top layer of the fort. He takes Chris while Buck takes Liam, and they manage to settle both kids in Chris’s room without waking them.

“Mac and cheese is probably cold,” Buck says as they re-enter the kitchen. “But I made pesto chicken pasta for lunch. It’ll be nicer to warm up.”

Eddie grabs his hand, pulls him in closer. Buck looks at him curiously.

“Come here,” Eddie murmurs.

They end up on the remnants of the fort, which is a little uncomfortable, and Eddie sprawls out over Buck’s body much the way Chris did – he lets his hands wander, exploring Buck’s body, cataloguing old and new scars and filing away the narrow spaces between them. It’s true that Buck’s injuries have faded, but the memory of them is stamped into Eddie’s memory so viciously he can see them as if they’re still there – a high-definition overlay he might never get over.

Buck breaks their kiss to comb a hand through Eddie’s hair. “I’m fine,” he whispers, breaking the fragile silence around them. “Eddie, I’m okay.”

Eddie just kisses him again, because he doesn’t know what else to do. The last of the scabs from the wound on Buck’s face have just begun to heal up totally, and he’s careful when he presses his thumb to Buck’s birthmark, follows the action with a kiss. Buck’s parted his legs to make room for Eddie – he always makes room – and Eddie marvels, again, that Buck has always let Eddie touch him where it hurts.

Eddie’s not that brave. He’s not Buck. There’s scores of wounds running deep, inside and out, and every time Buck goes to soothe, he pulls away. Buck’s worked out ways around it – of course he has; he’s Buck – but Eddie’s first reaction is always to flinch. To shirk from the pain, instead of go through it. Even though he knows the outcome will be better.

“Eddie?” Buck asks uncertainly.

He pulls away a little. Buck’s got both arms around his shoulders, toying with the tag on the back of his shirt. He looks worried. He’s got enough to worry about – Eddie shouldn’t be adding to it.

“I’m fine,” he reassures Buck. “Hey. Let’s make good use of this fort and have some dinner.”

“Okay,” Buck says quietly, and they do just that – sit on the ground like they’re little kids, pretending that they’re just as flexible as Chris or Liam, and watch movies.

But Buck still shoots him looks. Still looks worried. And Eddie – well, he’s running out of ways to soothe. To try and dust that worry away. So he smiles and thinks to himself – _I have to work this out. I work this out, or it becomes Buck’s problem._

He doesn’t want that. So when they go to bed, he thinks about it – something to get him through it. He doesn’t need a trauma psychiatrist – he didn’t live through what Buck did.

Something else, then. Something just out of reach.

~*~

Two steps forward, one step back.

Buck’s next therapy session leaves him a wreck. He’s declined Eddie’s company for this one, and when Eddie returns home after his shift, he finds Buck curled up in the bathroom, staring into the distance blankly.

It’s always been hard to see Buck like this, but now it comes with an onslaught of disjointed thoughts – thoughts like referral to specialized trauma psychiatrist and you need to make sure he keeps it and Evan has mental health issues. It’s not just Buck versus his nightmares anymore. It’s Buck versus his own brain, his own mental scarring.

“Buck?” he asks, softly, closing the bathroom door after he steps inside. “You okay?”

Buck doesn’t answer him. For a moment, he feels his pulse ratchet up – and then he settles it, forcefully, realizing that Buck needs him right now.

“Buck?” he asks helplessly. “C’mon, baby, it’s alright. I’m here.”

He reaches out to touch – and Buck doesn’t react. Doesn’t flinch, and when Eddie touches him, shows no sign he felt it at all. That’s when Eddie starts to think that this might be outside the scope of his abilities. He’s never not been able to talk Buck down, and here he is – begging, almost, for Buck to come back to him.

He calls Maddie. He doesn’t know what else to do. By the time she gets there, he’s tripping over himself to explain – she silences him with a single look and hand on his elbow, and enters the bathroom slowly.

“Evan?” she asks.

Eddie can’t watch Buck not respond anymore. He backs away from the door, taking deep breaths, trying not to lose his shit completely. That won’t help either of them.

“Evan?” he hears again. “Hi, little brother.”

There’s a shuffling noise. Then, “Maddie?”

He knows one thing in that moment – relief. He sags for a moment, his heart pounding, before straightening up again and moving away. Whatever it is they’re talking about – it should be private, until Buck decides to tell him.

He leans on the wall outside the bathroom door, blinking back tears. He can hear them murmuring – Maddie more than Buck – but he can’t make out what they’re saying.

Maddie’s going to know, now. She’s going to know that Eddie broke the one promise he made to her – that he’d look after her baby brother. That he failed Buck in more ways than he ever wanted to. He can’t work out how to fix this, how to fix Buck – there’s nothing he can do to rip the memories out or scrub them clean.

“Eddie?” Maddie’s voice calls softly.

He straightens up, takes a breath, blinks the tears back. Opens the door – Maddie’s on the floor with Buck, who looks thoroughly miserable, but not blank or absent anymore.

Maddie smiles. It looks like it hurts her to do so. “Can you get some tea?” she asks. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

“Ah, yeah, sure.”

He stumbles off. Fills the kettle, finds three mugs, distributes tea bags amongst them. He’s relieved to have been given a task – no standing around. No waiting, no wondering.

A nudge at his side has him turning. It’s Maddie, and she’s not smiling anymore.

“He’s on the couch,” she murmurs.

“What…?”

“He had a hard session. That’s it. He just… wasn’t ready for some of the stuff they went into today.” She nudges him. “I think he’d like it if you went and sat with him. He’s worried you’re angry.”

“Angry?” Eddie asks, stupefied. “Why would he-”

Maddie looks at him pointedly and Eddie thinks, Matt. Matt who yelled and abused and punished Buck for being sick or hurt or, well, human. He supposes, at his lowest, he thinks of all his past hurts as well.

“Yeah,” he says hollowly.

It takes another nudge, but he gets his legs moving, finds Buck curled in the corner of their l-shaped couch. He’s been crying, that much is clear – somehow, the evidence of tears is far better than the dry-eyed but blank stare Eddie witnessed earlier.

“Hey,” he says softly, and sits down.

Buck rubs his face and leans into Eddie the moment he’s settled. Eddie sits for a moment, listens to Maddie puttering around in the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me, cariño?” Eddie murmurs, pressing his lips to Buck’s temple.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I would’ve come home…”

“I know. I know you would’ve. This – this isn’t that.”

They drink tea together. Maddie stays until Buck carts himself off to bed, then turns to Eddie with the air of a person about to get what they want, one way or another. Eddie wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with Buck – grateful, weirdly, that Chris is with abuela – so he heads it off before it can really begin.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

She frowns. “For what?”

“Failing him. I’m trying not to.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it. After a moment, she shuffles closer and puts a hand on his leg.

“You have not,” she whispers, “failed my brother.”

He doesn’t believe her, but he nods anyway. “So?” he asks. “Uh…?”

“I wanted to ask how you’re doing, Eddie,” she says softly. “Evan’s worried about you. He said you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“None of us have been sleeping well,” Eddie deflects uncomfortably.

“Sure,” she agrees. “But Chris has Buck and Buck has you and the sleeping tablets he’s on and they both have therapy. Who’s taking care of you?”

“Buck’s taking care of me.” He’s feeling defensive now – never a good thing, but not anything he’s learned to switch off. “We’re working it out.”

“Evan says he knows there’s something wrong,” Maddie says. “And he’s not usually wrong. Eddie – God, you love him so much, I’m a little scared you’ll let it kill you. He’s going through a rough patch but he’s – he’s not a kid. He can look after himself if you need to sleep or – go to therapy.”

Eddie’s shaking his head before she finishes. “I’m fine,” he insists. “As long as Chris and Buck are.”

“You were there.” Great, now they’re cutting to the heart of the issue. Eddie hates this part, and Maddie, oddly, is not nearly as gentle as Buck is with getting to the heart of things. Buck peels back the layers – Maddie goes for the centre of it, where it hurts the worst. “You saw it too. I know you did. I was working the radio that day. There’s no way it didn’t affect you.”

Eddie says nothing. She can’t work away at him if he gives her nothing – and she doesn’t know him like Buck does. Buck knows when and how to push where Eddie is concerned – Maddie doesn’t.

She sighs, looks down at her tea. “How long has he been doing this?”

“Doing what?” Eddie asks.

“The bathroom thing. He said you normally get him to come out. How long has he been doing it?”

Eddie swallows down the lump in his throat. “Since I met him,” he admits, his voice raspy. “Since before that, I think.”

Maddie blinks a few times, and for a moment, Eddie can see the tears gathering in her eyes – the way she has to cling to the cushion she’s holding to get it together. Then she settles, and the tears are gone.

“And you think you failed him,” she says softly. “I left him with our dad.”

“You… Maddie, that’s not…”

“Not the same? Eddie, all you’ve done the last week is try to help him.” She takes a sip of her tea, and Eddie follows suit, mechanically, for something to do. “He told me you took him to a hospital. You’re the reason he’s getting therapy now, instead of later, when he has way less of a chance at it helping him. Give yourself a break.”

“Maybe if I give you a break and you give me a break we can call it even,” he jokes weakly.

She smiles back at him. It’s feeble, but it’s there. “Sure. I think we can agree on that.”

She leaves shortly after – clearly having given up on getting him to talk more about himself – and Eddie FaceTimes Chris quickly to say goodnight before heading to bed. It’s good for him, the child therapist says, to spend time apart from them. To prove to himself that he can. He looked like he was having fun – but Eddie still worries.

When he slips into bed, Buck rolls to bury his face in Eddie’s shoulder, which is far better than what Eddie was expecting to happen.

“Maddie’s gone,” he says eventually. “You with me?”

“Yeah.” Buck tosses a leg over Eddie’s hips – the way that makes Eddie feel like a slightly less soft body pillow. “She’s worried.”

“Of course. We both are.”

“Sorry. It was just a hard session. I – the hard sessions, they suck, but they’re worth it later. They’re progress.”

“Just wish your progress didn’t leave you nearly catatonic on the bathroom floor,” Eddie murmurs, turning his head to look at Buck in the darkness. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Buck blinks slowly. “Maybe it’s better if you do come to them.”

“How’d you get home, anyway?”

“I drove. It didn’t really hit me until I got back and Chris wasn’t here. I just sort of – I don’t know, maybe I put it off because I had to drive.”

Or maybe Chris is as much of a comfort for Buck as Buck is for Chris, Eddie muses.

“Well,” he says, “you’re okay now. Let’s get some sleep. Things’ll be better in the morning.”

~*~

The morning comes at two-thirty, when he wakes up and the bed is empty.

He’s so tired he doesn’t register anything being wrong for a moment. Then he notes the light coming in from the hallway, the decided lack of Buck glued to his side, the goddamn time.

“Buck?” he asks, staggering out of bed and into the hallway. “Ev?”

He never, ever calls Buck by his real name. Sometimes nicknames slip out, but Buck has always been Buck to him. He’s worried – downright fucking scared actually – and nothing at this hour makes sense.

“Buck?” he tries again. “Evan?”

Maddie’s rubbing off on him, maybe. Maybe, somewhere in his sleep-addled mind, he thinks Buck will respond better to his real name.

He rounds the corner to the bathroom, the source of the light, and finally gets his answer as to where Buck is.

Buck’s leaning on the bathroom counter, torso as stretched out as he can possibly get it. Even from his vantage point in the hallway, Eddie can hear him gasping, see the frantic rise and fall of his flanks – he immediately identifies it as a panic attack, something he’s never seen Buck experience before.

He enters, uses one hand to stroke Buck’s back. He’s dripping with sweat, Eddie realizes – dripping with sweat and doesn’t react to Eddie’s touch beyond a twitch.

“C’mon, Buck,” Eddie hears himself plead. “C’mon. Long breaths. You can do it.”

“Can’t,” Buck gasps.

“You can,” Eddie encourages. “You can, baby, I promise. Hold the next one, okay?”

They stand there for what feels like hours, but must only be minutes – and Eddie only knows that because Buck can’t physically sustain the short, gasping breathing without passing out for longer than that. Finally, his breathing slows down – he leans more heavily on the counter, and Eddie keeps rubbing his back.

It’s three in the morning. Buck hasn’t had a nightmare this bad in a long time – or, Eddie thinks, maybe ever. He’s never found Buck hyperventilating like this.

“That’s it,” he hears himself say as Buck manages to calm his breathing. “That’s good, Buck. You’re doing great.”

Buck’s breathing returns to normal, although he leans on the counter for another few minutes. Eddie almost asks him if he wants to shower – then figures that that’s probably the worst question he could ask right now, when Buck’s clearly had a nightmare due to the tsunami.

“C’mon,” Eddie murmurs, helping Buck straighten up a little. “Back to bed.”

Buck follows him blindly, and the moment they’re back in bed, he’s asleep. Eddie lies awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his first task of the day will be to change the sheets.

Tomorrow, though. He lets his hand wander, finds Buck’s hip in the darkness. Buck sighs. Tomorrow, not today.

~*~

The next day finds him taking his frustrations out on the boxing bag at work.

It’s not like there’s anything else he can do. No matter what happens – no matter the amount of exercise, good food, therapy, love and patience he lavishes on Buck and Chris – they both seem to be getting worse. Buck’s nightmares are almost unmanageable and Chris is clingier than ever.

Still. Eddie Diaz is not a man in the business of not holding it together. So that’s what he’s going to do, and if it takes everything he’s got to do it – well, that’s it. That’s what he’ll give.

“You look tense, Diaz.”

Eddie looks up. Lena Bosko is watching him at the bag, her arms crossed, eyes assessing. “You train much?” she asks.

He shrugs, gives the bag another good few hits. “Not as much as I used to,” he says. He’s been going to the gym Buck got him a membership for – but it’s fallen to the wayside a little in the last few weeks. “Good way to vent though.”

She shrugs. “Nothing like the real thing.”

“I don’t have access to the real thing anyway,” Eddie says. “Not right now.”

She nods like she gets it, like her boyfriend and kid are also at home and tormented by their own brains every night and she’s also helpless to stop it.

“You need to blow off way more steam than that bag can take,” she says. “You got a few hours after work?”

Chris has an after-school play thing, and Buck had mentioned going to Maddie’s for dinner. He guesses he does, and it’s better than pacing an empty house, on eggshells, waiting for the next disaster to strike. “Yeah,” he says warily. “Why?”

She grins. “I think I’ve got a way for you to get the real thing.”

~*~

He’s in the ring without thinking.

The ring is more of a metal fence and spectators, really, but he’s in there. He’s in there because the adrenaline got him drunk and high the moment he even stepped inside the place – because he doesn’t know what else to do but he does know how to fight.

He sparks to life. The lights are dim enough to make the whole thing a challenge, but his blood rushes through his veins – he counts his breaths on the way out, feels the way his lungs ache for air, the slip of concrete and dust beneath bare feet, and every impact of his opponent’s fists reminds him of one thing – he’s alive. He’s alive, and if he can win this fight, he can win the rest.

It’s a short fight but once it’s over, he looks up, looks around – feels like he’s seeing for the first time in a long time, high-definition technicolour, everything switched on. He’s awake, finally. He can’t defend Buck or Chris from their nightmares or the tsunami or therapy, but this? He can do this.

“Good job, soldier,” Lena grins to him, and someone is shoving a thick wad of cash into his hand. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he pants, his ribs aching as they expand into a bruise. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’s driving home before the adrenaline fades and he thinks of Buck. More specifically, he thinks of Matt. He remembers the way Buck cringed the first time they went past a martial arts gym, before they were even for-real together, the way the very thought of someone touching Buck had ignited a fury within him he’d forgotten existed.

In some dark, twisted way, it’s nice to have that fury ignited again. To think that it’s still there – that he hasn’t lost it, that he can still use it to protect his family if he has to…

But Buck can’t know. Eddie knows Buck’s not afraid of him. But he’s not going to be pleased with Eddie’s newfound bloodlust, to say the least.

He sits in the car for a long time, mulling it over. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he’s fucked up – to go to street fighting instead of just telling someone how hard it’s been? It’s not as if no one has been there – Bobby and the team, Maddie, hell, even Buck through all his own stresses. Everyone has tried to get him to talk. He’s done therapy before. So why is it so hard now?

But still. Buck and Chris have it worse. And it was a one off – he has no intention of actually going again tomorrow night. He’s not going to lump any of this on either of them, not when their return to normal is already so fragile.

Buck’s already in bed when Eddie gets home.

He creeps inside, feeling like he’s just left seeing his mistress while his perfectly faithful boyfriend waits at home with their kid. It’s not like that – but he knows, deep down, that Buck won’t like the street fighting.

Eddie’s not sure he likes it either, now that it’s over. But the rush? The heady flash of adrenaline dumping into his system, the thrill of the win – the money – he likes that. When he gets into the shower, he presses on the bruises and relishes their existence. Battle badges, he’s always thought of them that way – proof that he came out the other side and survived.

And he did. He was at the tsunami – and he lived. He thought Chris was dead – he lived. Buck was so broken for a week Eddie was convinced he’d lose him to suicide at some point down the track – he came back from that too. He can come back from all of it, and all he needs is an outlet. Something that’s his, that he can vent with. It’s a fucked-up way to think of things – to prove his worth by seeing how much abuse he can take, then count the scars and wounds like currency, but right now, it’s a familiar holding pattern, and familiarity feels good after weeks of feeling adrift.

It’s not therapy. But it’s close enough, right now, and even as he winces, sliding into bed with Buck, he’s tired enough to sleep deeply for the first time in nearly two weeks. He’s tired enough to pass out and not wonder at what point he’ll wake to find Buck gone or Chris crawling into bed with them, tear-stained and desperate.

The rest of it? Well, the rest of it he can work out in the morning.

**Works inspired by this one:**

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